


Hermione Granger is Tom Riddle's Beard

by limeta



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Beards, Everyone Is Gay, F/F, F/M, Feel-good, Fluff, Fluff and Crack, Heteronormativity, M/M, Queer Themes, Sane Tom Riddle, Time Travel Fix-It, Time Travelling Hermione Granger, Young Tom Riddle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-10
Updated: 2018-09-29
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:21:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 27,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22066924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/limeta/pseuds/limeta
Summary: The only reason why Tom Riddle allowed to be talked into finding a wife was so he could shut up all of his pureblood followers asking him why he hadn't found one already and if he was turning blood traitor on them.
Relationships: Abraxas Malfoy/Tom Riddle, Hermione Granger/Tom Riddle, Pretend Tomione
Comments: 28
Kudos: 221
Collections: Queer Fics





	1. Chapter 1

Pureblood society had three rules:

Marry young and rich.

Marry pure or half if you must

Marry fertile to have heirs

Tom Riddle managed to avoid all three and accumulate a following. It was a feat unto itself.

Lord Voldemort was a wizard everyone wanted to get behind! All until his followers started getting married off and planning children to have and noticing how their lord didn't do any of this.

''Maybe he doesn't know?'' Thoros Nott asked.

''Maybe he hasn't found the right girl yet?'' Orion Black asked.

''Maybe he's queer?'' Redmond Lestrange asked.

''Maybe he doesn't want to?' Abraxas Malfoy asked, the only one sure in his speculation.

The Knights of Walpurgis had looked at the only one not marked and gasped in outrage at the mere idea that their lord did not want to marry and have pureblooded children!

It was Thoros that first approached their young, partially stressed out lord who muttered in his sleep about discounts and angry Mr. Burke.

Let sleeping dogs lie was a very good proverb, such a shame it was muggle and not known in the pureblood world.

Thoros shook awake their lord and yelped loudly, panicked, when a yew wood wand pointed straight between his eyes.

''Nott,'' crimson eyes narrowed. The wand remained raised.

''My lord, there is a question we, your most loyal, need answered.''

A subtle twitch of the corner of his mouth told Thoros that their lord knew what this question was perfectly well. He pulled the wand to his side and allowed Nott to ask.

''Are you perchance, just maybe, perhaps as they say ...''

''Out with it.''

''Are you _queer_ , my lord?'' Thoros whispered it like it was a debacle of a secret.

A pause, long enough to be considered awkward stilled between the two men. Then, finally: ''Thoros, _why_ is this so important to you people?'' Tom Riddle did not raise his voice because Lord Voldemort would not allow such a simple question to rattle him. Even though it did and he wished to inflict upon his meddling subjects ungracious pain.

''Because!'' Thoros shouted, bolder now that he realised that their lord was simply addled with queerness and not against their pureblood ways of marrying and siring proper scions and heirs. ''We can help you, my lord. Find you a beautiful, well mannered wife. She'll even be a pureblood and no one will look at your,'' the look Tom Riddle gave Thoros would have killed a Basilisk, ''blood status.''

''What makes you think I _want_ this?''

''This is not a question of want, my lord, but of need!''

It was the continued insistence that broke Tom Riddle that day.

Because the crux of it was that his followers felt that if they did not believe in a pureblooded Brit like them whose masculinity and virility were _not_ in question – then there was no point to pureblood idealism spreading if done by such a backward force!

''Is this really necessary, Thoros?''

''Yes!''

For the good of the cause! Tom Riddle shouted in his head as he took out Iris Selwyn on a date.

Walburga Black was two steps behind them, ensuring that the pureblood chastity of these ladies would not be besmirched by one upstart halfblood.

Iris Selwyn was Thoros Nott's idea. Her parents were divorcing and no pureblood male wanted to touch her with a ten foot pole. Out of the halfbloods Tom Riddle was the best option.

Tom Riddle talked amiably with Iris about music and magic and political ideologies. She agreed mostly to everything he said and this bored him immensely. If he were to have a wife and fulfil this heterosexual fantasy of his followers' then he would wed the perfect woman!

Someone smart!

Not that Iris wasn't smart, she’d almost been Head Girl – but she was a yes-woman! This was all consequence of her fear that if she disagreed with him he would not marry her.

No, his wife needed to have a backbone!

Orion Black then set him up with Primrose Parkinson. She was _not_ an alcoholic, but merely had a fervent **love** for brandy. It was ten in the morning and she was already on drink number three.

Tom Riddle endured the date.

He walked out when she began singing and asking Walburga to accompany her with Miss Black's pocket sized hurdy gurdy.

That was a little too much backbone for a wife of his to have.

Redmond Lestrange told Riddle that he should be looking for some ladies that have shamed themselves by having premarital sex.

" _Why_?"

"They'll be forever grateful to you for saving them from their fall from grace! Like they'll care for your queerness"

So Tom Riddle went on a date with Frieda Goyle. She was very pregnant and very single.

Walburga mostly left them to their chatter, reading letters from her cousin and giggling like a love-struck school girl. **_Honestly_**.

Frieda was kind and thoughtful. Tom Riddle put aside the fact that she was easy to talk into sex, but so were all of his peers. Only _he_ hadn't felt any such need or want.

Mortal men were enticed by mortal women.

Thank you very much; Tom Riddle was above sexual gratification because he wanted Unicorns to **respect** _him_.

However, if he had to piiick.

''Miss Goyle, this has been a lovely date and I would like to see you agai-''

Septimus Weasley in all of his red headed, impulsive glory barged into the café where Tom Riddle was having these dates, and upon spotting Frieda exclaimed: ''FRIEDA, DOLL! I WAS A FOOL! PLEASE FORGIVE ME AND LET'S GET HITCHED!''

Frieda stood up, her stomach practically enveloping the entire universe (Tom Riddle did not know pregnant women could get so big, this was news to him what the actual—) and shouted: ''SEPTY, LOVE! I KNEW YOU WOULDN'T WANT OUR BABY TO BE A BASTARD!''

They hugged, had a mighty applause in their honour, and bolted.

Walburga wiped a tear from her eye and said: 'Now that's a real pure of blood gentleman, Riddle. Not like _you_.''

Without saying a single word, Tom Riddle left to go to work and turn himself off while angry customers demanded he buy their trinkets for more money.

''I can offer you store credit, if you like.'' Tom Riddle, young dark lord in the making, had the sentence memorized like muscle memory. His impeccable retail smile dazzled the masses.

No sooner had Tom Riddle's shift ended than Abraxas Malfoy barged in with a frizzy haired witch on his arm sending him murderous glares. The smile on the pureblood's face was stretched into abnormality.

''Tom! I found you a wife,'' against the witch's will, Abraxas tugged her towards him. ''This is my bastard cousin Hermione Granger. She's a pureblood of course. From _Australia_!'' He said Australia as if it explained all manner of things.

''You never mentioned having a bastard cousin.'' Tom said, already sceptical of this entire charade.

''She's pretty sudden.'' Abraxas winked twice. ''She’s practically appeared out of thin air!''

''Your cousin looks like she's our age. That can't be sudden.''

''Well, she's-''

''-I can talk for myself!'' Hermione rebuked angrily, sparks of magic flying everywhere.

Tom Riddle looked at her arm and noticed it was glamoured.

''What's wrong with your arm?''

''Oh!'' Abraxas went over Hermione's sneer and answered for her, ''She's got a tattoo. Both of you like tattoos, go on, talk! Bond. Get married!''

''First of all what I am designing is not a simple tattoo and I would implore you-''

''—no what you're making is just a binding spell that's going to keep all of your followers on a tight leash because you're a paranoid mess.'' Hermione answered right on the bloody pureblood pretending nose.

''Did I mention she's not at all my cousin, but a time-traveller?'' Abraxas giddily jumped on the balls of his feet and nodded.

Well, Tom Riddle mused, if I had to _pick_.

The most fascinating option would be considered first, of course!


	2. Chapter 2

Suffice it to say that Hermione was incredibly pleased when the war ended in a blaze of green glory. It meant that peace would finally have its turn on the throne of reality. They were all broken things celebrating, not yet aware of how much time and effort it would take to mend. However, that was fine. The important part was that they’d won.

After the Ministry rounded up all of the witnesses to vouch that Harry James Potter had indeed killed Voldemort, there was a party. It reminisced those photographs taken after World War II.

Alcohol was thrown around and drunk like water. Songs were blared. Musicians sang like there _was_ tomorrow – all thanks to those that laid down their lives.

A crowd gripped at Harry and began to throw him up and down all while chanting his name and title Boy Who Lived!

Ron and Hermione were less enthused about everything. Not that Harry, himself was any more interested in this charade.

The Golden trio made sure to have one drink, make an appearance, and then leave to go on a walk near the Thames. Muggle London seemed like a smart choice to go to as to avoid the magical masses.

Moonlight twinkled off of the translucent water. The three of them sat close to it on the grass and reclined to watch the stars. Harry had a terrible, haggard look about him. Exhaustion draped around his shoulders like the cloak of invisibility he wished to hide under forever. Ron's eyes reddened, but he hadn't any tears to shed. His lip was bitten raw. Pulsating with pain. Hermione tried to make the best of things, as she usually did. Sometimes she twitched as an after effect of the cruciatus, but that was not important. They had won!

How lucky were all three to survive this madness.

"What now?" Harry asked, his green eyes closed in a sombre expression of uncertainty.

Ron shrugged and kept silent.

The trickling of the water had a calming effect on them all. It was four am and rarely anyone was around safe for the occasional drunken fool staggering towards his home.

"We live." Hermione answered.

Harry nodded slightly.

Ron inhaled sharply at remembering his dead brother.

They lingered for a while until the sun began to rise and responsibility beckoned.

God, Hermione thought, I wish I could avoid all of this rebuilding part.

It seemed somehow wrong to have the ministry demand they rebuild the world they liberated. They were just kids that needed rest.

"I want to just leave here until everything's fixed."

When Hermione said those words she did not at all expect to pour her magic into the wish, let alone for some sick, cosmic force to actually heed her flippant desire.

It was a crack, as simple as apparition, that sounded when Hermione stopped existing in 1998 and was thrown into 1945.

Hermione Granger found herself in a manor, dissimilar to the one she was tortured in. Where the one in her present felt as if its foundation was made of tension, and its decor reeked of the gothic, dark style - this one seemed to exude the complete opposite.

It was full of sun. The windows were open ajar to let fresh air in. The decorative statues reminded one more of the Renaissance period than anything else. A lot of naked, Adonis-like men intermixed with magical paintings of blond ancestors.

Though, Hermione saw nothing of this. She had her eyes fixed on the sight in front of her: a young, platinum blond man drenched in blood with peacock feathers glued to his rainbow robe.

A circle was underneath him, also in blood. The repugnant smell entered Hermione's nose and had her nearly retching.

"YOU, WOMAN, ARE YOU MARRIED?" he pointed at Hermione, mad with magic in the bugged out silver eyes staring, waiting.

It was the absurdity of it all that had Hermione yelling: "I DON'T NEED A HUSBAND!"

The blond man tilted his head to the side and pulled his face in a wide, eerie smile. ''OH,'' he exclaimed and clasped his hands together. ''The Gods are merciful and have given me the perfect bride to be.''

At the sexist, idiotic rhetoric, Hermione retaliated by flinging a quick incendio at the blond.

He dodged it, barely managing not to let his long, blond locks catch fire. While another spell was cast in his very own home, he twirled on his heel and pulled up a silent, wandless shield.

Hermione stopped, just for a second to marvel at the fluid movements of magic and might. That was hard to do. It either meant that this wizard practised every day, or that he had a natural affinity for wandless magic. As purebloods tended to have because they were taught control over magic from a young age.

Nonetheless, the witch cast more spells, quicker than before, all in an attempt to shoot down the man's shield. She succeeded after the third spell, but then had to dodge a body bind hex herself.

God, Hermione thought, can't I get a break?

They duelled in the vast, unfurnished room (Hermione honestly didn't think purebloods could get droller, but here they were having rooms reserved for magic rituals and statues!).

The blond man, probably some relative of Malfoy, Hermione thought - finally took out his wand and fired a barrage of innocuous spells at her, to hinder more than maim.

In cases like these, when faced with a man that's never fought for his life, Hermione found being a war veteran useful. Like an assured dancer she twisted away from his range and cast a langlock spell on the shouting blond.

But then he cast silently.

And Hermione went silent, too.

The way his eyes appraised her creeped her out in a way Hermione couldn't quite put together. It was as if her every movement was being judged.

Out of desperation to end this, Hermione cast the fiendfyre hex at him, a powerful turret of fire and magic pouring out of the tip of her wand and forming a giant, furious phoenix.

Her opponent's eyes widened in fear or awe - she couldn't tell - and he swiped his wand at his mouth to finite the langlock.

''AGUAMENTI!'' He yelled and made the proper, circular wand movement to conjure the spell. He summoned just enough water to put out Hermione's attempt at distraction.

While he was busy putting out the fire, Hermione was jumping through a window and using her magic to ease the fall with a levitation charm. Fucking aristocrats and their three-story high manors.

Upon landing, she spotted peacocks peering at her.

''What the bloody fuck?'' Hermione wondered aloud. Deciding to ignore them in favour of finding a way off of the grounds, she sprinted towards a tall gate lined neatly about fifteen metres away from her.

Wand at the ready, maximum bombarda at the tip of her tongue, Hermione surged into action.

However, things rarely worked out this well for anyone - let alone Hermione Granger.

''MAXIMUM BOMB-''

Hermione stood, frozen in place, wand just halfway done with its needed movement, incantation just nearly finished.

High heels clacked, peacocks cawed, and an indifferent woman looked at Hermione with condescension no one had ever looked at her with, not even the Malfoys.

''Bonjour.'' the French woman greeted and tucked away her wand into her black robes. It looked like she'd walked out of the shadows. ''My husband wishes to speak with you.''

Hermione looked the woman over once more and would have given her the biggest sneer in existence. She looked practically identical to Lucius Malfoy. Definitely some relative. Who else but a Malfoy would attack from behind?!

The husband came the long way out into the garden and finally introduced himself, shaking Hermione's hand and kissing it pleasantly like he would all pureblood girls. ''Hello! I am Abraxas Malfoy, this is my wife Antoinette! We got married three days ago!''

All right. This was a bit absurd. Hermione would give them that. Abraxas was an incredibly chipper looking Malfoy if she ever saw one, while his wife was the gothic influence Lucius and Draco all practised.

''What year is it?'' Hermione first asked, terrified of the answer. The stunning spell seemed to finally wear off.

''1945.'' Antoinette answered.

''Oh fucking Christ.''

Abraxas clapped his hands joyfully at the cursing and muttered some things to Antoinette in French all while staring at Hermione as if she was the prettiest toy in his toy box.

'' _Do you think Tom will like her?''_

'' _I think he better because I don't need a human maid.''_ Antoinette drawled.

* * *

Abraxas levitated the witch into the living room, having had a change of clothes from his bloodied garments, and set her down on an armchair.

The ritual was a success! Oh, this witch was wonderful, powerful, and with a few makeup charms she'll be even decent looking!

''What's your name?'' Abraxas inquired. At Hermione's quiet sneer, Abraxas asked Antoinette to finite her body bind. She did halfheartedly.

''Hermione Granger.'' the mobile witch answered.

''Oh, British! She's British! Why ask us what year it is?''

''It's 1998 where I'm from…''

''Oh my! OH MY! The spell really worked through space and TIME!''

Antoinette shook her head at her husband's antics and posed another question. ''How old are you?''

''18.''

''Brilliant! Tom doesn't like younger girls, they bore him.''

Antoinette ignored Abraxas' exclamations of pleased joy in favour of getting more information from Hermione. It's mostly about the future and whether or not they have children - son, Lucius - Antoinette nodded at the name, apparently fond of it.

''Lucius? But that's a horrible name.'' Abraxas frowned. ''Hyperion is much better.''

Antoinette grinned. ''I like Lucius.''

''I'll let you name my son that over my cold, dead body.''

''You might just make that reality, husband.''

Hermione then inquired, too fed up with their bickering, ''Why did you summon me?''

''My friend, Tom, needs a wife. You will like him, I think. He is very smart and a forward thinker. Is of a thought that women should have just as many opportunities as men. Ha!'' Abraxas laughed, thinking the entire movement a farce. ''Your delightful exclamation about not needing a husband suits him well. I'll take you to meet him!''

Abraxas stood up and strode over to Hermione in two, long strides.

''Antoinette, dear wife, do have Dobby clean up the statue room.''

* * *

With such parting words and a small nod from Antoinette, Abraxas apparated both Hermione and himself in front of a shop in Knockturn Alley: Borgin and Burke's.

The first thought Hermione had was: Didn't Tom Riddle work there when he was a fledgling dark lord?

Then, when realisation struck: Oh _no_ was the wife-hunting Tom young Voldemort?!

Horrible shrieks resounded from within the shop. Clatter. Yells. Anger. Begging. Snarls. Curses.

"TELL THAT INFERNAL BASTARD YOU WORK FOR HE'S A DEAD MAN! YOU, TOO, FOR NOT LOWERING YER BLEEDING HIGH PRICES!"

"Sir, I will kindly ask that you stop threatening me and my employer or else I will be forced to call the aurors." a velvety voice said. It was subdued and calm.

"I AM THE HEAD OF THE AUROR DEPARTMENT, BOY!"

"Sir, _please_ …All I can do is offer you store credit." Exasperation was a good look on the handsome shopkeeper.

Abraxas and Hermione entered the shop just as a very angry mountain of a man marched out.

"Abraxas!" the dazed dark lordling exclaimed upon spotting the blond man that seemed to hold the attention of entire rooms for hours on end. "Make my day, go buy something expensive so Burke won't dock my pay.''

"TOM!"

"Yess?" He practically hissed the word. To the untrained ear it might have even sounded like a lisp when in fact it was verging on parseltongue.

Abraxas gestured Hermione and introduced her as his pureblood, bastard cousin from Australia! What a joke.

Darkness seemed to fall over Tom Riddle's eyes when he spotted her.

"I FOUND YOU A WIFE!"

After a brief back and forth between the three of them, Hermione Granger realised that her big mouth had landed her in a dangerous snake's den.

"Let's all go eat at Tout and get to know each other." Abraxas didn't phrase this as a suggestion.

"No. I am boycotting that place." Tom Riddle sneered. Abraxas quirked a brow at him and said that that was where pureblood society came to mingle and if he was serious about his plans he needed to blend in properly.

"Stop acting like a halfblood, Tom." the blond man rolled his eyes, either not aware or ignoring the murderous glare being pinned on him.

If Tom Riddle didn't like it, Hermione surely did.

"I want to go."

"You aren't dressed right." Tom Riddle said, gesturing her muggle clothes.

Abraxas cast a few transfiguration spells on her person and transformed her attire into frilly - too frilly - periwinkle robes.

At least it wasn't pink.

"Two against one." Abraxas singsonged and urged Tom to change into appropriate garb.

At the jab, Tom Riddle did as Abraxas had done and transfigured his plain work robes into something out of a high society function magazine. It was a deep purple colour with silver swirls at the sides, like snakes coiled around one another.

"Do I pass your inspection?"

"Twirl for me, Tom."

Tom let out a high, mocking laugh before deadpanning: "Ha, _no_."

The interaction greatly confused Hermione Granger because she never thought Tom Riddle had ever had any friends, only followers and sycophants. Neither of which was Abraxas Malfoy. Even more surprising was the fact that Tom Riddle, young dark lord in the making, didn't want this of the Malfoy.

''I wouldn't dare let him brand me like some cattle.'' Abraxas whispered in Hermione's ear. Hermione pushed up her occlumency shields, then, aware more than ever of the danger her mind was in when around the two dark wizards.

''He is more useful to me unmarked.'' Tom Riddle softly interjected. He spoke quietly, yet his voice was so alluring to listen to that it quieted amphitheatres all so the audience could hear.

Abraxas wandered about the shop and took a vase with a flower inside it that if taken out would cause the thief unimaginable pain. ''I'll take this.''

''Ah, exquisite choice, good sir,'' Tom Riddle smiled, as if speaking to a client, ''That'll be sixteen galleons.''

Abraxas waved away the expectancy in Tom Riddle's eyes and said: ''Bill it to my vault. You know its number.''

Then to Hermione the blond aristocrat giggled: ''He expects me to carry money around like some sort of servant.''

Tom Riddle snorted defensively.

''I'll integrate you both into pureblood society, to that I swear!''

Abraxas Malfoy shouted.

Hermione had a feeling he was wholly serious.

''He is, wife.''

''I agreed to nothing.'' Hermione coolly said.

Tom Riddle gave her a smirk. ''You will.''


	3. Chapter 3

Tout was a restaurant in Diagon Alley. No one really knew when it appeared, but purebloods flocked to it like moth to flame. It had started when Walburga Black said: ''I like Tout, it's got _everything_."

Walburga Black endorsing something meant more than any word of mouth could because the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black had greater acclaim and reputation than the bloody Minister for Magic.

The outside of it was pretentious and exuding in power and magic.

The inside was packed with witches and wizards either already seated or waiting for a table to open up. Reservations needed to be made months in advance if you weren't as rich as the top five most prominent pureblood families: Black, Malfoy, Nott, Lestrange, and Greengrass.

In that order.

In summary, when Abraxas apparated with Tom and Hermione he didn't need to wait around for a table to open, but only snapped his fingers and had them already seated.

Three menus appeared and Tom Riddle looked angry, just by the way he clutched the menu tighter than necessary. Nothing else betrayed him.

Hermione studied the first page rigorously.

Abraxas was already flipping through the specials on the last few pages.

The funny bit about Tout was that the first page was cheapest and then each meal grew gradually in price.

Hermione turned the page and Abraxas let out a sigh of relief he hadn't known he was holding.

Tom Riddle hated having things paid for him, but instead of making sure he could afford the pureblood lifestyle he didn't go into ministry for work, but Borgin and Burke's – which paid minimum wage – which in turn made him very cheap. He had yet to order anything that wasn't from the first and least expensive page.

''Tom Riddle, turn that blasted page.''

''Abraxas Malfoy, don't you start with me I _will_ curse you.''

''Like you cursed the Defence position at Hogwarts?''

''That is a jinx, actually. How did you pass OWLs if you don't see the distinction?''

''I cheated, remember.''

''Ah, _right_. We blamed Prewett.''

The two slytherins snickered in triumph. It was so abnormally normal. Like when Harry and Hermione had talked about funny things in that tent just to keep their minds off of danger, in an attempt not to feed their horcrux-enhanced paranoia.

Hermione stared at the first page of the menu and twitched.

It had fish, veal, chicken, pork – all of those normal meals. The second presented dog and bugs and phoenix and ...holy shit was that fucking _snake_? Oh, oh she would have the snake just to see Tom Riddle's reaction.

''Tom, turn the page.'' Abraxas sneaked his own hand towards Tom's menu and flipped it quickly.

Tom Riddle opened his mouth in outrage and narrowed his copper-crimson eyes. Then he gritted his pearly whites (hot damn those were some nice teeth, Hermione's dentist upbringing resurfaced) and sneered in a whisper. ''Let go of the menu and let me have my bloody fish.''

''I'm ordering the wendigo for you.'' Abraxas tapped the menu and retreated his hand before the venomous snake bit.

''I will not have you spending money so frivolously on me. Wendigo is chewy, don't do that to me. If you're going to be a prick at least order something I might enjoy.''

''Would his lordship prefer I order us some veela wing? It's quite chicken-y.''

''His lordship would prefer you stop harassing him.''

People didn't even glance in their direction, Hermione noticed. It was as if this was a regular occurence. The out of time witch didn't know whether to laugh at that or cry. God, she was having lunch with Tom Riddle. She was on a _date_ with Tom Riddle.

Though, it seemed like Abraxas was more on a date than she was. This thought comforted her in a way Hermione didn't know how to articulate.

She knew that having Tom Riddle's attention divided between two people was much better than having all of it concentrated on her.

"Why are you two arguing?"

"Tom Riddle is _cheap_."

That was not a sentence Hermione Granger ever expected to hear or care about, yet here she was!

Tom Riddle narrowed his eyes menacingly. Though, then when he pointed to the prices he turned to Hermione and calmly asked her: "This is't expensive for you?"

Hermione looked at the prices and said: "They look pretty normal to me."

"OK." Tom Riddle said and flipped to page 5. About three zeros were added compared to the first page. "How about now?"

"I mean, yes, but these prices are common."

"Ah." Tom Riddle grinned in a very pleased, superior way. He addressed Abraxas. "There was probably an inflation."

"Oh, naturally!" Abraxas exclaimed chirply. He ran his fingers over the price on the 5th page, it showed ground vampire fang and it was under dessert. Hermione didn't gag thanks only to her rigorous self discipline.

"Add two zeros." Abraxas said.

Hermione did mentally. Then twitched.

She stared at the prices with this newfound information for a good thirty seconds before turning back to page one.

Tom Riddle gloated.

"I'll have the veal." Hermione whispered, her voice hoarse from the shock her organism had just experienced by the expensiveness of this pureblood lifestyle.

"Fish for me."

"You cheap arses better pick something from page 6 or I am denouncing both of you." Abraxas drew the line and raised his brows, keeping eyes on them until they submitted.

Tom Riddle pretended to be devastated by letting out a small, quiet gasp. His eyes, however, continued to track the first page until giving in finally and pushing it to the sixth and second to most exotic offers.

Hermione took his lead, thinking at least that if Abraxas wanted to spend this obscene amount of money it was his to spend.

The sixth page had six things on them.

Acromantula legs (Abraxas snorted and muttered something to Tom who stifled a chuckle)

Detoxified vampire blood ("How do you even detoxify vampire blood?" "Abraxas, don't ask me things unless you want them answered in detail." "You use blood magic for magic blood. It's pretty straightforward." "Thank you for your brief, yet informative explanation, Hermione." "No problem." Tom Riddle allowed himself an eye roll)

Dementor meat (Tom Riddle glared at this very intensely. "First snakes and now this. Is nothing sacred?")

Werewolf claws (Hermione almost flipped at the sight of this because taking a werewolf's claws was immensely painful if done while the person was alive)

Dragon meat ("Wasn't this made illegal, Abraxas?" "Shush, nobody need know.")

House elf ears.

This could not stand. So in retaliation Hermione stood up, slammed the menu down on the table loudly, and exclaimed: "What kind of backward, barbaric, heinous, horrific, DISGUSTING place is this?!"

"Add some more adjectives," Tom Riddle whispered encouragingly, "I don't believe the entire restaurant has heard you."

Abraxas looked red in the face as a Weasley. The mortification was too much to bear.

Especially when Walburga Black from three tables down called (shouted atop her lungs) : "Abraxas who is this woman?"

"I'm Hermione Granger, his cousin!" gestured a meek, inwardly trying to stop existing Abraxas Malfoy.

"Merlin's beard, Abraxas! Control your cousin!"

"She's beyond saving, Walbie!"

Orion was desperately trying to stay out of it, but at Walburga's insistence he seemed to finally crack and introduce himself into the mess.

"Hello, Riddle. Hello, Abraxas."

"Orion." both said, practically silent compared to the two women holding monopoly over everyone inside.

A waiter came along to see if there was a problem.

"IF?" Hermione shouted.

Walburga, surprisingly, backed Hermione up. "Honestly, Francois, she wouldn't be causing such a fuss if she didn't think there was."

Hermione began to tell , in great detail (more explicit and extensive than anything Tom Riddle could muster) how what they were doing to magical creatures was not only illegal, but also incredibly dangerous for consumption of any kind!

Here she listed all of the painful side effects of drinking improperly detoxified vampire blood.

Someone gagged and pushed their toxic looking drink away. It appeared to be Gretchen Greengrass and her husband Wellimir.

The waiter grew paler the more Hermione spoke.

When Hermione almost exhausted all of her sources, Tom Riddle interjected with some snake facts.

More people shuddered.

Walburga Black blinked owlishly at the show in front of her.

Abraxas sank lower in humiliated silence.

Orion pretended to not know any of these people.

The two intellectuals joined effort and ardently enlightened pureblood society to the dangers this restaurant posed not only to the creatures in question but purebred purebloods with pedigrees to flaunt!

Witches and wizards began to demonstratively leave Tout while saying they would never eat here again. Some said that the owners ought to be ashamed.

The final nail to Tout's coffin came from Walburga Black when she shouted: "ORION, TOUT IS OUT!"

With that said, everyone left Tout.

Most gleeful of which was Tom Riddle.

He pointed at Abraxas Malfoy rudely, his Londoner showing, and exclaimed: "Ha!"

Hermione's stomach growled fussily. She'd not eaten anything in a whole day and a half. (Celebratory Alcohol and pretzels did not count) Abraxas heard this because he had an empathetic ear for such things whereas Tom Riddle would probably let her starve to death.

''My meddlesome cousin is hungry!''

''You are committed to this farce, aren't you?'' Tom Riddle said, peeved by this turn of events. He flickered his crimson gaze to her dismissively and asked Abraxas something in a low, quiet voice so Hermione didn't hear.

After lengthy deliberation Tom Riddle emerged victorious and said that he would be taking them to eat.

''Like, proper meals, yeah?'' Hermione asked.

''No, I ate on my shift break before you came. I want ice cream.'' He said and Hermione felt like a fish out of water for hearing Voldemort admit to craving ice cream.

The ice cream parlour was okay. It was decent looking and there wasn't even a queue to wait. A lady that worked there showed them the available flavours.

They varied from vanilla to dragon breath.

"Antoinette!" Abraxas waved over a witch garbed in black from head to toe. She licked a black ice cream.

Abraxas hugged his wife who glowered and asked him why he was interrupting her alone time. Tom stood by Hermione's side and watched the married couple making fools of themselves in public. They were purebloods so it was allowed.

"What is that?" Hermione finally found her voice and asked after Antoinette's ice cream flavour.

"Death." Antoinette replied curtly and licked the black ice cream. She looked at young Voldemort for help. And then, seeing her discomfort he ushered Abraxas away from her.

"Is it really Death?" Hermione inquired as she did not think to put it past wizarding britain to capture rotting corpse essence and infuse it in ice cream.

''Yes.'' Antoinette said. Abraxas laughed.

Hermione, confused by the Malfoys, blinked. Then for some reason she sought out Tom Riddle's opinion this.

He looked over Antoinette and Abraxas to meet Hermione's eyes and mouthed: ''Black licorice.''

''Ah.'' Hermione said. That made sense.

Tom Riddle took her hand in his suddenly and pulled her to the glass separating witch from ice cream.

''Pick something.'' Tom ordered.

''Don't order me about. It's rude and paints you as a control freak.'' Hermione sneered.

Tom Riddle allowed himself an eye roll before resuming working on his ice cream.

Abraxas Malfoy had chosen a rainbow coloured ice cream which he swore tasted like sugar. Tom licked his chocolate and decided to keep things simple because he really didn't want to expend any strength on choosing a stupid ice cream flavour.

Hermione looked at a purple ice cream and asked what it was. Tom Riddle shrugged and said that he had no idea.

Not to tempt fate even more, Hermione chose vanilla and allowed Abraxas to graciously pay for everything.

The four of them strolled through Diagon Alley for the next two hours. Abraxas told jokes about their school pranks and Tom nodded along.

''Walburga Black conjured a fake acromantula out of a piece of parchment once and threw it at Abraxas' head while he was asleep.'' Tom vividly recalled.

Antoinette choked on her black licorice and snickered.

''I was traumatized! For _life_!'' Abraxas Malfoy shouted and Tom patted him once on the back to shush him.

''What kind of shenanigans did you get up to in your school time?'' Antoinette asked, curiously.

''Some friends and I fought a Mountain Troll in the girl's lavatory in our first year.''

''What is it with girl's lavatories and dangerous creatures hiding there…'' Tom Riddle muttered and Hermione couldn't help but laugh at the absurdity of his sincere question.

''Aha!'' Abraxas pointed at Hermione's lowered guard and said. ''Have you agreed to marry Tom?''

Tom Riddle sent a fierce glare in Abraxas' direction and Hermione realised that that was the worst he would do to the blond, which set her at ease because it meant that he was not yet too far gone in the dark arts and didn't use the cruciatus like one would lumos in perpetual darkness.

''I have not agreed to anything. And even if I were,'' oh fuck she was actually considering it. ''I would only do so if Tom Riddle here agreed to all of my concessions and conditions.''

''Marriage is one big compromise.'' Abraxas said.

Tom Riddle smirked: ''I've got a few of my own, wife.''

''Don't push me, Riddle.'' Hermione grimly said and bit into her ice cream hard.

Fuck.

She was actually considering marrying Tom Riddle in order to stop him from starting a war. It would be foolish of Hermione to think she could influence him to change completely. People like Riddle didn't turn 180 degrees. Though, the restaurant outing did show that Riddle could be shown to have common sense.

It was a worth a try?

Right?


	4. Chapter 4

The two magical prodigies had spent the better part of the day debating the semantics of their marriage. Hermione supplied some of her future knowledge so Tom Riddle understood why she forbade him to create another horcrux.

"Not only are you ugly, you are also insane!"

Tom Riddle bit his lip, deliberated, and then allowed that to go as a clause in their marriage contract.

However he did get her to agree to help him gain power and influence. She would not betray his secrets as long as he never targeted muggleborns, creatures, squibs, and muggles.

It had seemed that Hermione was getting the better end of the deal until Tom demanded that she be unyieldingly loyal to him.

"Don't you think that's rather desperate?"

"I am not asking for much, _wife_."

"You are _sleezy_ , Tom Riddle. Anything you ask is too much."

In the end Hermione had agreed to the terms set by them both as long as they could be revised whenever a party felt it was necessary.

Because this was the 1940s Hermione demanded that they be treated as equals regardless of blood or gender. Tom Riddle had had no problem with that.

"So I take it you're a mudblood?" He had said, annoying her on purpose. Hermione in retaliation flashed her mudblood scar at him and snarled that yes, she was a mudblood and asked him how low he felt to have her as his salvation.

''I don't.'' Tom Riddle said, as indifferently as Hermione would be if anyone asked her how she felt about a total stranger existing. It set her nerves on fire.

''You don't care about blood?''

''I care about magic. It's the purebloods that care about blood. To promote pureblood supremacy as a halfblood is insane.'' Tom Riddle sneered, asking her how she was so daft to not understand.

Since the one thing Hermione hated more than being insulted for her blood was being told she was stupid she took great pride in saying: ''You promote pureblood supremacy in such lengths that it escalates into terrorism, _husband_. Your influence and power diminishes and you are killed by school children! Among which _I_ was''

It scorched, the silence between them. His crimson eyes look into her and without hesitation Hermione pulled up her occlumency shields.

The next clause added was that they would not use legilimency on one another.

''How boring.'' Tom Riddle commented. He had nothing to say on her previous outburst, which was good, yet unnerving and left Hermione feeling incomplete.

''I take it you like sex.'' He said to her when they were nearly finished with writing up the magically binding contract.

Hermione had gone red at the calm statement. ''Why is that any of your business?''

''You must be _discreet_ with whatever liaison you may have.'' Tom Riddle stressed. ''It would be unbecoming for your deviance to be broadcast for all to know about and laugh about. The Malfoy name would be tarnished and disrespected. You owe Abraxas this much.''

Halted by this sudden lecture on propriety from a murderer, Hermione found in her curiosity to finally wonder about Abraxas Malfoy's relationship with Tom Riddle.

''Are you lovers? What are you two?''

For the first time since time-travelling in the 40s, Hermione saw Tom Riddle uncomfortable. His body language shifted miniscule to accommodate a small, involuntary shudder.

''We're fond of one another.'' In the end he settled on.

''Why be uncomfortable by that?'' Hermione asked, this time honest and without spite in her tone.

''I'm unnerved by the implications our relationship, as benign as it may be, has on the world around us. Wizards think that blood is important, but you know how much muggles place value on sexuality and nuclear families.''

''Yeah.''

''Sometimes,'' Tom Riddle, allowing exhaustion from having a heated and argumentative conversation with Hermione to shine through, whispered in a low voice so they only heard it, ''it is hard to think like _them_.'' Hermione heard the omitted names: Antoinette and Abraxas. ''It feels unimaginable to just renounce everything you've been taught for the bigger part of your life.''

''It's not wrong to like a man.''

''No,'' Tom Riddle said without deliberation, ''but nonetheless it is illegal. Power and money make you exempt from the law. As long as Abraxas Malfoy does his pureblood duty to secure the family line he can get away with murder for all anyone cares.''

This was a strange conversation to be having with young Lord Voldemort. Yet here she was!

''You can get away with murder, albeit a bit harder because you're a woman, but a hand has been dealt to you, Hermione Malfoy.'' Tom Riddle smirked at her, advancing towards her with lilting steps, soft and barely heard. ''A hand you must play as best as you can. It is far better than mine.'' His hand rose to caress her cheek and brush a stray lock of hair from her face.

''Envy is slytherin green, then?'' Hermione scoffed and batted away Tom Riddle's hand from her cheek.

''And pride is gryffindor red.'' Tom Riddle whispered, his hot, minty breath too close for comfort. Hermione pushed him away and said that their marriage contract could be closed and concluded.

Malfoy Manor was less frightening while under the rule of Abraxas Malfoy. It had seemed that the gothic architecture of the inside she remembered staring at while under cruciatus had been implemented much later. It stank of Antoinette's doing.

The not yet married couple entered a drawing room and saw Abraxas Malfoy lounging on a Rococo sofa with five peacocks around him. Antoinette Malfoy was sitting on a chaise and reading a magic tome. If the book's menacing energy was anything to go by it was a very dark book with very dark contents.

Hermione watched as Tom Riddle scowled at the peacocks, said nothing, and mechanically (as if having done this before many times) ushered some off of the sofa to sit down next to Abraxas. The Malfoy Lord smiled at him fondly and wrapped an arm around his neck.

Tom Riddle did not protest the gesture, but neither did he look overly happy about it.

Hermione sat on a third chair, away from the three magicals.

"Have you a clause about children?" Surprisingly enough Antoinette was the first to speak and break their monotonous silence. With careful movements she put the book away. Tom greedily took it in his lap to peruse. It crooned when met with the dark wizard's magic, approvingly. Even magical artifacts could tell he was a murdering cunt.

"Yes." Hermione said. It was a purely hypothetical and would probably never need to be utilised, but for the sake of contingency planning it existed.

"And?" Antoinette pressed.

Hermione grimaced.

Tom Riddle answered, not taking his eyes off of the book in his lap. "When we are both satisfied with how much power and influence we have we shall have one child. If it is a girl Hermione names it and if otherwise the honour befalls me."

Abraxas looked at Antoinette and said in french so neither Hermione nor Tom understood them "They thought of this far more extensively than either of us."

Antoinette gave a solemn nod.

"So, when will you have children? Let's time it so ours are the same age!" Abraxas merrily exclaimed.

Hermione looked ill at the prospect. Tom Riddle only scoffed and said that if they ever had that child they would have it when they both wanted one.

"My child will be _wanted_." Tom Riddle said firmly.

"Fine, but _roughly_ speaking when do you think that'll be?" Abraxas continued pursuing the topic, quickly shifting from amiable friend to irritating fiend.

Tom Riddle looked up from the book for the first time to look at Abraxas hard, not cold or harsh - just very intensely. ''Abraxas, I cannot answer that because neither Hermione nor I care to think about this. Do not ask again.''

Antoinette turned to Hermione and asked her where she would be staying. If it would be the Manor because of her Faux-Malfoyness or in a one bedroom apartment of her husband's that was above Borgin and Burke's.

On one hand - closed quarters with Voldemort did not strike her fancy - on the other to live in a manor where she was tortured by deranged inbred Bellatrix Lestrange? Oof. What a tough choice to make.

''Could dear cousin,'' Hermione addressed Abraxas, smiling, ''lend me some money to rent out a flat of my own?''

When Abraxas sputtered about, trying to figure out why she would not stay with him in Malfoy Manor, Antoinette grinned and said that if her husband would not give his cousin money - then she would certainly entertain this idea of Hermione's.

''Thanks.'' Hermione said, this time genuinely smiling, not having to put up a farce.

Antoinette was too posh to act like a proper person when faced with gratitude, so instead she said: ''Of course.''

The four of them languished in silence for a few minutes until Abraxas inquired when they would hold the ceremony and how they had agreed to let people know.

''I have to get her a ring and propose.'' Tom Riddle said, hating the idea of bending knee to anyone. Hermione had demanded the muggle custom be done if only because she knew it would rile up many of the purebloods' sensitivities.

''I love rings!'' It had elicited a counter reaction from Abraxas Malfoy who clapped his hands once in glee and said that Tom and he would brave jewelry stores while Antoinette and Hermione sought out a wedding robe for Hermione.

''You wed in robes?'' Hermione inquired Antoinette, leaning towards her as if she would a friend in this den of snakes.

''Dresses are gaudy.'' Antoinette merely said and beckoned for Hermione to right her disheveled experience arguing and debate brought upon her. They needed to go through floo into Diagon Alley.

''Not Knockturn alley?'' Hermione snorted, more as a jab at Tom Riddle's darkness and living quarters.

''No,'' Abraxas replied, hideously appalled at her thought process, ''that is where prostitutes and poor people dress, Hermione! Why do you ask?'' A more terrified thought crossed past his lips: ''Is that where people from the future go to dress?!''

''Um, no. No.'' Hermione set the blond man's mind at ease. He let out a sigh of relief Antoinette scowled at him for. There was disdain in this marriage, and tolerance only for the sake of familial duty.

''Besides being dashingly mad in the future, have you anything more to tell me, Hermione?'' Tom Riddle asked, quirked lips and soft tones. He didn't raise his voice, Hermione noticed. It was a crueller type to never yell or shout or show anger. This meant that he seethed like water in rising temperatures boiling an unaware frog.

Hermione pondered, unvarnished finger to her lips. A faraway look in her eyes. Then a glint of unkindness sparked and she said: ''A baby kills you.''

''That is it, we aren't having children.''

Abraxas was the only one devastated by this.

* * *

Hermione was dressed in one of Antoinette's dark robes as she still had no proper clothes. Though, this outing would most definitely change that. Now that she was with the pureblood witch, Hermione could relax if only a little. With Tom Riddle away the witch could breathe.

''What colour do you want your dress robe to be?''

''Shouldn't it be white?''

''No.'' Antoinette patiently said.

''Oh, then let's look at blues.''

''Blue?'' Antoinette looked Hermione over and now that it was just the two of them Hermione didn't know why she felt a flutter inside her when the goth witch's attention rested solely on her.

''Yeah?''

''Mh. It suits you, goes well with your pretty hair.''

Antoinette turned away to look for a boutique fit enough for Malfoy money while Hermione struggled to piece together this new enigma she was faced with.

They entered a french boutique, or more precisely - Antoinette grabbed Hermione's hand in hers and dragged the out-of-time witch inside. It was full of wondrous gowns and robes and fabric that made Madam Malkin's look ridiculously cheap and lacking in quality.

Very quickly Antoinette had dismissed the shop girl and said that if they needed her she would be called. The coldness of her tone had Hermione remembering their duel earlier this day. Like a huntress, the frenchwoman had waited and grabbed hold of an opportunity when it presented itself. It wasn't Abraxas Malfoy that had taken down Hermione, rather this witch looking at fabric and commenting in french to herself.

She looked amused by all of this. The shopgirl was called to measure Hermione, but then when the girl tried to get a word in about a suggestion was ignored. Hermione gave her a small smile and the shopgirl had huffed, seemingly put off.

''That was rude.''

''Was it now?'' Antoinette raised her brows and shuffled through blue robes. Some with frills. Some without. Most had a dose of functionality Hermione valued.

''Yes. Why do you act so lordly with no good reason?'' Hermione demanded. She hated people like Antoinette who because they had money decided to be pricks.

Not wanting to waste words, Antoinette summoned the shopgirl to tail them. Five minutes of the girl's incessant talking and gesturing and hinting about expensive fabrics on sale that would look sublime forced Hermione to dismiss her. ''Thanks! You've been helpful but we can take it from here!''

The pureblood witch smirked at Hermione's electrified appearance. Her hair was all over the place and her magic shrouded her like a cloak. ''You look like a cat that's been threatened with water.''

''Gee,'' Hermione said sarcastically, ''thanks.''

Antoinette laughed and tossed a blue robe that was simple to appease to Hermione's practical side yet beautiful enough to appease the purebloods.

''Try it on.'' the french witch ordered. ''The sooner you and that halfblood marry the sooner I can stop listening to my husband bemoaning.''

Even though Hermione did not particularly like how cutthroat and brutal with words Antoinette was - she couldn't deny her impeccable taste.

''Well?'' Hermione twirled so Antoinette could judge her.

''You look splendid.'' Antoinette remarked. Hermione blushed at the abrupt praise.

They bought the robe and many more.

And then Antoinette asked Hermione if she had had a familiar in her time. Hermione spoke about Crookshanks with a sad smile tugging at her lips. It hurt that she would not be with her friends now that peace was there, but if she played her cards right - maybe peace would never be put into question. At least because of Tom Riddle.

They passed by a pet shop and Antoinette asked Hermione if she'd like a cat.

''You can't just buy me a cat!''

''Oh.'' Antoinette laughed dearly at Hermione's incredulous words. ''You may find that I can do quite a many thing.''

Antoinette bought Hermione a small black kneazle that wasn't Crookshanks, but was enough.

''This is absurd.'' Hermione shook her head and carried the kitten in her arms, allowing Antoinette to pet and coo at it.

''You will let me name her.'' Antoinette did not ask and therefore Hermione thought better than to answer back. An exasperated, bewildered sigh escaped her.

The kneazle rubbed against Antoinette's soft palm and meowed lovingly.

''What will you name her then?''

''I'll name the little thing Abyss, don't you think that's a lovely name?''

''That's way too dark for a kitten.''

Antoinette was stone faced and Hermione kept eye contact as they stared one another down. Neither looked about to budge. The kitten wriggled uncomfortably. Hermione adjusted her grasp and it went back to contentment.

It was Antoinette Malfoy that shook her head and snarked out a laugh from her nose. ''I was joking, Hermione. She is your kneazle, you name her.''

Hermione snickered alongside Antoinette and when they returned to Malfoy Manor, Hermione felt happy - sort of. Happier than when Tom or Abraxas were breathing down her neck and asking her questions she had no inkling of answering.

''I want to name her Morgana.'' the brightest witch of her age that learned about gods in her free time for fun finally said.

''The Goddess of Death?'' Antoinette split her face in a bright grin. ''Better than Abyss _by far._ ''

* * *

Tom Riddle's robes were procured without fuss (except to tell Abraxas Malfoy that just because the man had worn the most complex and ostentatious robe in existence on his wedding didn't mean that Tom Riddle wanted to compete with such a feat), the ring was procured without fuss (''It's customary to have diamonds, Abraxas.'' ''Diamonds are absolutely cheap let's get this one of a kind gem made out of a piece of Arthur's stone. The same one where the sword was held, you know the tale, yes?'' Tom Riddle had looked at the price tag and asked Abraxas how much money the man had. ''I'll know when I run out.'' ''Abraxas, no. Buy the diamond.'' ''Ugh, fine, Tom.''), and the ministry filed papers for marriage were procured without fuss (A woman in a pink robe that had had the most ardent of crushes on Tom Riddle held onto the papers as if for dear life and wouldn't let them go even when Abraxas Malfoy tried bribing her with an obscene amount of money. ''Riddle, you and I are meant to be!'' ''Dolores Umbridge, give it a rest. Tom is marrying my cousin and you can't do anything about it!'' ''Abraxas, don't antagonize the toad woman.'' - in the end the aurors had been called in to apprehend the woman.)

Upon reaching the safe haven which was Malfoy Manor, Tom Riddle decided that he just wanted to sign the papers and never think about marriage again.

The foyer in which they had apparated in was full of black robes (each somehow darker than the last)

''Antoinette dear, what are you doing?'' asked Abraxas Malfoy.

Tom Riddle collapsed on a couch and startled when a small camouflaged ball of black fur hissed at him from the black couch draped with black robes. It had yellow eyes. ''What is this cat bloody doing here?''

Hermione giggled, leaning in a couch where both witches sat on. Antoinette waved around a glass with champagne and said that they were best friends now. ''Hermione is better than your Tom Riddle. Take that, husband.''

''Tom Riddle is a unique man that cannot be compared to anyone.''

''Abraxas, stop talking about me like I'm a trading card.''

''Tom, she has besmirched you.''

''Both of them are pissed, Abraxas. Leave them be.''

Which was actually true as what the two men were not aware of was Hermione Granger experiencing a bout of pre-marital hysteria and wondering if she was doing the right thing and that this was definitely not something she would have ever wanted for herself.

To which Antoinette Malfoy had replied: ''I felt the same way right before I married Abraxas.''

''How did you cope?''

That was when Antoinette had Dobby bring them a bottle of expensive ad magically strong champagne to drain together. Halfway through the bottle their idea of fun was bringing out Antoinette's clothes to wear around and make fun of their husbands.

''Personally, I find Abraxas liking men a relief.'' Antoinette had explained, her speech slightly slurred. Hermione bobbed her head, allowing physics to do the rest rather than her brain because she was a lightweight and she was pissed. They switched to water when the bottle was done.

''Why's that?'' Hermione blushed from the alcohol and being near such a charming presence. Though everyone was charming when drunk, Hermione found. Except her terrorist husband that wasn't yet a terrorist technically but had the makings of one - fuck what even was her life?

''I like women.''

''OH?!'' This seemed to make Hermione guffaw with joy. ''What are the odds? You're both each other's beards.''

Antoinette smiled and hiccuped out a description that Hermione howled at, scaring Morgana away from their couch to the next one across. ''Abraxas and I are the _full_ facial hair experience.''

''So what's the deal with Tom Riddle?'' Hermione tried to get herself used to saying the name because it would be her husband's.

''His deal?''

''Why this wife hunt?'' she clarified.

''Ah, he doesn't care for sex.'' Antoinette explained. She threaded her fingers through Hermione's hair gently with her free hand.

''Does he really like Abraxas?'' Hermione submitted to the touch and closed her eyes.

''They've been friends since school. It's hard to shake off a relationship that's been there for so long.''

Hermione nodded, remembering Ron, remembering Harry.

''What about you, Antoinette? Can I call you, Tony? Your name is too long.''

''Of course, Herm.''

''Ugh, that is horrible.'' Hermione pressed her face against the cool fabric of Antoinette's robe and inhaled the rich scent of her expensive perfume.

''Tony is worse.'' Antoinette said, though with a smile that painted her not as mad but amused.

''Are you seeing anyone?'' Hermione asked.

Antoinette cheekily grinned and said that the only one she was currently seeing was Hermione Granger.

The brightest witch of her age playfully shoved Antoinette from her and told her that that wasn't what she had meant.

''My apologies. English is not my mother tongue.'' Antoinette ran circles around her words. ''No, I am not seeing anyone. Do you like girls?''

''I've never thought about it.''

''Do you like me?''

Hermione remembered Antoinette's patience with her and her lack of disdain when interacting with her and thought that maybe she did.

''What if I did?''

''Mh.'' Antoinette mused aloud in form of a long hummed sound. ''If is a word for weaklings. I like you, Hermione. Your blood means very little to me when you have shown me your magical aptitude. This morning when you appeared out of thin air and fought a man you knew not in a place you knew not - you intrigued me. Very much. Also Lucius, beautiful name for a boy. I shall make sure to use it.''

''Don't talk about your son to me.'' Hermione said, remembering the way Lucius Malfoy had clutched onto Draco and Narcissa while Bellatrix Lestrange had carved the word mudblood in her arm.

Antoinette's voice softened as she placed a tentative, reluctant kiss atop Hermione's lips.

''Desole'' Then to lighten up the atmosphere, Antoinette raised her arms in the air and announced: ''I shall plan your wedding and it will be the envy of all! It will have live acromantulas and thestrals and dementors in attendance! Walburga Black will weep tears of envy and she will beg me to plan her wedding because it will be too awesome for anyone's comprehension!''

Hermione giggled, properly cheered up. The mental picture wouldn't leave her. With Antoinette making her wedding into a joke she might even survive the ceremony.

Around that time was when Tom Riddle and Abraxas Malfoy appeared to clean up their mess and have the very tipsy ladies put to bed.

Abraxas decided to simply leave Antoinette in the foyer while I am Lord Voldemort tried to control Hermione and have her dragged upright.

''Fuck you Voldemort!'' Hermione exclaimed and swung her closed fist as hard as she could in his face. Tom Riddle's incredible reflexes helped him dodge, but then the witch toppled him down to the ground cause of her lack of balance in the first place.

''Hermione,'' Tom Riddle seethed, ''stop embarrassing yourself.''

''KICK HIM!'' Antoinette shouted from her position, less inebriated than the girl who'd only eaten an ice cream the entire day. ''DESTROY HIM!''

''Yeaaaah!'' Hermione slurred and raised her wobbly fist in the air as if to salute Antoinette.

Tom Riddle made a hand movement, a flick of the wrist, and used wandless magic to push Hermione off of him. He dusted his clothes off and sneered that if he'd wished to marry an alcoholic he'd have stuck by Primrose Parkinson.

In the end, much to the protest of everyone drunk involved - Dobby vanished the girls to their respective rooms.

''So, marriage.'' Abraxas smiled.

Tom Riddle glowered. ''Yes.''

''You'll learn to like it.''

''I do not appreciate having someone I ought to treat as an equal hating me and wishing me death.'' Then anger. ''I have only met her today! How do you expect me to have us sign this ministry issued marriage contract!''

''I met Antoinette on the _day_ of our wedding. Three - now four days ago.''

Tom Riddle didn't wait for Dobby to appear to get himself a drink. He offered none to Abraxas. Sitting down on the still cluttered sofas, he crossed his legs, and tipped the drink. The cat was still there and staring at him. He'd never before felt this off kilter.

''Whose cat is this?'' Tom Riddle asked and poked Morgana, to see what reaction he could get from her. She bit his finger hard and wouldn't let go of it, grabbing his hand with her claws and gnawing painfully. ''Fuck.'' the young dark lord set his drink down to help pry this beast off of him.

''I think marriage will do you good. You need a family.''

''Oh bugger off.'' Tom Riddle hissed and cast a healing charm on his scratched up hand, treating the small inconvenience all pet owners go through like it was the equivalent of someone butchering him with the intent to kill. Morgana jumped off of the sofa and fled up the stairs to find Hermione.

Abraxas took an expensive robe of his wife's from the sofa Tom was on and tossed it heedlessly onto the floor to sit down on it. ''Why is this putting you on edge? Antoinette and I will make sure everything goes smoothly. Weddings and marriage are cause for celebration.''

''I can't continue my plans, Abraxas. All of them have to be remodelled, from the ground up.'' Tom confessed, ''It frustrates me. Obviously I understand why I must do this. Because as Hermione so unkindly reminds me - she helped kill me in the future. I lose and I **die**.'' That word passed by a bobbing adam's apple hard, feeling like terror at the tip of thantophobic Tom Riddle's tongue.

''Everyone dies.''

''I don't.''

''Hm.'' Abraxas regarded Tom Riddle in this caged light and had nothing inspiring to tell him. Nothing to help ease him into this foreign world of family orphans needed a manual to navigate. All he told him was that thinking about death was counterproductive.

''Counterproductive.'' Tom Riddle tasted the word on his tongue like one would ancient wine from a famous vineyard in a faraway place. ''Sign as my witness, yes?''

Abraxas Malfoy grinned and said that asking him was an insult.

''I'll walk her down the aisle! She is my cousin, after all.''

''Repetition makes truth out of lies.'' Tom Riddle said, having tired of Abraxas Malfoy's constant repeat.

''What do I even tell the knights?'' Tom Riddle groaned and slid into an unflattering position on the couch so he looked up to Abraxas Malfoy miserably and sneered the next words: ''I loathe this personally. This is all unnecessary. To get married at eighteen. My girl isn't pregnant. I'm not rushing off to war. Fuck. Is this how you felt?''

''No.'' Abraxas admitted quietly for a change. ''I felt worse.''

''I'm not having children. Hermione can go fuck off if she wants a child it won't be mine.''

Abraxas maneuvered Tom Riddle so the dark lord sprawled across the sofa with his head in Abraxas' lap. Deft fingers massaged the overwrought scalp of the prodigal wizard.

''Is this about the whole I can't love nonsense Dumbledore has gotten under your skin?'' Softly the Malfoy Lord asked.

Tom Riddle's silence was an undeniable yes. He didn't admit to things with words if they showed weakness, but he did not lie to Abraxas. There had never been need for it. Abraxas had no intention of doing Tom Riddle any wrong.

''I am of the opinion, Tom Riddle, that that is hogwash. All of it. It is untrue and a way for an old man who's hurting to hurt other people around him. No one is asking you to love anyone. That is how we work and I am content with that. Hermione does not love you, but neither you ought to feel obligation towards her. This is a marriage of convenience.''

''Of course.'' came the barely audible reply. Tom Riddle closed his eyes and added, ''She is smart. That's her only saving grace.''

''Yes, Tom, she is. Probably as smart as you, perhaps more, perhaps less. The summoning ritual I conducted would make suitable pairs. Chosen by magic to be one another's pair.'' Abraxas reassured. ''With time Hermione might even like you. You probably did cause her great trauma.''

''Didn't yet happen.''

''Nonetheless she blames you.''

''Emotional cunt.''

Abraxas let out a delighted chortle at the crude tongue. ''Try as I might you still cling to that horrid way of speaking.''

''I'm not posh.''

''No. But you will be when you marry into the family.''

''Pardon?''

''Tom Malfoy, good yes?''

''Hermione RIDDLE, Abraxas.''

''Hmm, no.'' Abraxas pulled his hands to himself and raised a brow.

Tom Riddle breathed out hard from his nose to stifle a laugh bubbling from inside him. ''Oh my god, Abraxas. Let Hermione and I decide for ourselves. You have done _enough_.''

* * *

Tomorrow Tom Riddle and Hermione Granger signed two contracts. One to have the ministry acknowledge their marriage and the other to reinforce their rules of conduct.

All that was left was to act madly in love in public and announce their wedding to the whole of wizarding britain elite.

''Walburga Black is coming to my wedding.'' Tom Riddle said, the thought finally occuring to him. He looked disgusted.

Antoinette was already sketching out how everything was going to go down. There were skulls in her sketches and corpses and _fire_.

Hermione was tending a hangover. ''We can _not_ invite her.''

Abraxas snorted and asked if anyone had ever heard of what happened to a princess called Sleeping beauty? ''Is anyone familiar with the consequences of not inviting the evil fairy?''

''Walburga's not a fairy.'' Antoinette interjected.

''Walburga is _worse_ than a fairy scorned.'' Tom Riddle described and Hermione didn't know how to feel about Tom Riddle and she having a common person to hate.

''I can't believe everyone hates Walburga Black yet she outlives all of you via painting.''

Antoinette decided. ''We must snipe any painter that comes near her home.''

Tom suggested. ''Poison her progeny.'

''Or we could just not do all of this and invite her because she holds more influence and power than the Malfoy name ever could?'' Abraxas Malfoy said wisely, like a wise person.

''Ugh.''

''Come on Malfoys.''

''Riddles.''

''Malfoys.''

''Hermione are you taking my surname?''

''It's better than Malfoy.'' Hermione said, remembering Draco Malfoy's sneering and taunting and Lucius Malfoy's cold contempt for her mere existence. Riddle was an untainted name all in all.

Abraxas was the only one devastated by this turn of events. ''Betrayal,'' he gasped, ''from my own cousin.''

Hermione exchanged a glance with Antoinette who scowled and gestured flimsily with a hand full of black varnished fingers. ''I married that.''

''Divorce him.'' the brightest witch of her age deadpanned.

Antoinette looked at her husband and jokingly said with a straight face that showed no indication of her remotely joking.

''Collect your peacocks and leave the premises. You are being divorced.''

''Damn.'' Tom Riddle said. ''She sure told you, Abraxas.''

''All of you are terrible and do **_not_** deserve me.''


	5. Chapter 5

The Knights of Walpurgis were all thrilled to have their lord marry and find a suitable bride for himself. It set their minds at ease that he truly was one of them!

However, their smiles and good natured congratulations fell apart when Tom Riddle said that their plans needed some serious reconsideration.

''The mudbloods are still going to pay for their existence, right?'' Thoros hastily added the milord when Tom Riddle flickered a powerful glare his way.

''Not quite.'' Tom Riddle said and used Dumbledore as justification because if he said his wife had made him do it he would never hear the end of it. ''Dumbledore is an omnipotent war hero now and any attempt at politics that don't align with the current law will be met with unnecessary obstacles I would like to avoid.''

''The creatures are game?''

''I never said that actually. You can re-read my manifesto. I never said we'd be hunting creatures.'' Tom Riddle raised his brows inquisitively at Redmond Lestrange who flushed red from embarrassment and said that he'd misread.

''Wait, but how are we going to rise to power?''

''Gentlemen,'' Tom Riddle smiled his politician's smile he practised in the mirror when alone, ''I am getting married. This sounds like an after honeymoon problem to me.''

It was the lamest attempt at buying himself time to figure out his life if he'd ever thought of one. Thankfully it seemed to work.

''Of course, my lord!''

''Enjoy your wife!''

''Wait which one did you choose?'' Zephyr Avery inquired. Usually people didn't notice him so this question startled Tom Riddle. He looked like a malnourished sixth year but was eighteen.

''Hermione Malfoy – legitimized Malfoy bastard raised in Australia but born in England.'' The latter part Hermione had demanded be included because she wanted to make the world a better place via politics.

''I'm a bloody pretend pureblood and a woman let them try stop me from getting the Minister position.'' Hermione had said, a knife in hand held gallantly while they ate dinner in the Malfoy garden. Tom Riddle had set wards to bar the peacocks for the time being. Antoinette nodded and said that politics were an interesting choice of career. Abraxas had said that he would help her get there as he had only the best out of having a Malfoy as Minister.

Tom Riddle had marvelled at the assuredness. And the ambition. He was glad his wife had some. It would have been boring otherwise.

''When's the wedding?'' Thoros asked. He was best friends with Abraxas Malfoy and had been the first Knights recruit. Tom Riddle tolerated his forwardness as long as he proved of use. Nott money proved always of use.

''This Sunday.''

''In _four_ days?''

''Yes.''

''Do you need any help?''

''I might. Ask Abraxas, he and Antoinette are planning it.''

''Not your wife?''

''Well, she's helping but they've kicked her out of the discussions.''

''Sounds like sweet Malfoy arrogance, my lord.''

''It really does, Thoros.'' Tom Riddle said.

* * *

Abraxas Malfoy and Hermione Malfoy – Riddle technically but the papers weren't valid until the magically binding ceremony took place on Sunday – scoured Diagon Alley in search for a flat as both Hermione and Tom preferred the city more.

''Manors are better places for children.''

''Mention children one more time and I will hurt you.''

''I am not saying you should have one now, goodness. I won't have mine until the mid fifties. Antoinette agrees. Although, cousin dear, you ought to think about where your child will grow and how its surroundings will develop it as a person. Tom Riddle grew up in a city and I love him dearly, but he's a disaster of a man.''

''He's a disaster because he's a sociopath.''

''We've all got problems, but environment has a giant play in how the human mind functions.'' Abraxas Malfoy explained his thoughts on the matter. Hermione thanked him and said a year offhandedly, simply to shut up Abraxas Malfoy, ''I think my child will be born in 1960. If I ever decide to have one.''

''Lovely.'' Abraxas grinned sloppily. Then as they moved towards a very large (too large) flat to look at he began to speak lowly of Tom's current living arrangements. ''He lives in a one bedroom flat above Burke's. It's horrid. Honestly it's the size of my bedroom. It's not like he even likes working there - but because Dumbledore is a mess of a man that just duelled his lover – did you know- oh you did all right less gossip to share – he stopped Tom Riddle from getting into the Ministry in whatever petty way he could. Now he's a mugwump in the wizengamot!''

Lips curled then in a fastidious smirk when he whispered to Hermione, holding her close so people didn't eavesdrop on them. ''But he can't stop a Malfoy. With the right purebloods to back you and your liberal astuteness that panders to other masses you will easily come to be a Minister.''

''Thank you?'' Hermione didn't know how to feel about the fact that she was on opposites sides to Dumbledore. Her heart ached for the old mentor of Harry's but that feeling quickly left when she pieced together that it had been his fault that Harry had remained in an abusive environment.

The large flat had three bedrooms, two bathrooms, a study area which Hermione had already called dibs for (it counted even if Tom Riddle wasn't there he could take the third bedroom as his study Hermione was going to fill all of these empty bookshelves by herself thank you very much) A living room was spacious and had loads of light seeping into it.

The kitchen was neat and had a window to air out. Which was very important because the last thing she wanted was to smell of food.

Abraxas Malfoy looked around and checked for wards, asking how they were made if they were all up to date with the current warding laws, etc. The realtor spoke affably with him, answering every question in extraordinary detail.

Hermione pictured how her life was going to be living with Tom Riddle. Up until this point he'd been pretty subdued. She speculated that was Abraxas' doing. That was another thing she couldn't wrap her mind around – Tom Riddle and Abraxas Malfoy! How even was that possible? She'd always thought of Tom Riddle as some strange alien-like tyrant who had only violence in mind.

God, she hated how human he was. A murderer, but pragmatic and _human_.

Would Tom Riddle make her tea in the morning, she wondered. Would she do that for him?

''Hermione, what do you think of the flat?'' Abraxas asked, drawing Hermione from her British fantasies.

''It's nice.'' Hermione said and just as she wanted to say that they could look for more Abraxas Malfoy exclaimed incredibly loudly ''WE'LL TAKE IT!''

The realtor looked deafened, but thrilled.

* * *

Antoinette Malfoy and Tom Riddle were poring over books about proper pureblood conduct at weddings. ''Memorize these songs.''

''They're in Latin.''

''They're very popular wedding songs everyone's going to be singing when drunk. Usually sung by men so Hermione needn't know them.''

Tom Riddle looked at the long list of songs and thought that he honestly did not need this pretentious bullshit in his life. ''I could have lived without.'' He muttered but went to learning bedding songs Abraxas Malfoy was probably going to be singing atop his lungs because it was pureblood and customary. The way Walburga Black was she would probably join the men to sing with them and make it all about herself.

* * *

The venue was obviously going to be Malfoy Manor.

''Are you keeping track of how much money they're spending on us?'' Hermione asked because she realised very early on that high society weddings were no laughing matter money-wise.

Tom Riddle leaned closer. ''I have been doing this since Abraxas Malfoy bought me a chocolate bar in Hogsmeade when we were sixteen.''

Hermione nodded, satisfied.

They were fitted for robes, the black roses had arrived (as much as Antoinette wished to make this a goth wedding Abraxas had disallowed it and so had Hermione because she wanted it to look like a wedding and not a funeral that they'd only allowed her to conduct the seating and flower arrangement)

In the evenings they relaxed from wedding planning. Hermione mentioned that they got a flat.

''Oh thank fuck I didn't want to move to some cottage.'' Tom Riddle, head full of unnecessary Latin songs about fucking, let out a sigh of relief.

''Neither did I.'' Hermione, hating nature now because of her time spent camping and running away from snatchers, said.

''But think of your child!''

Hermione took out her wand and hexed Abraxas in lightning speed.

Neither Tom nor Antoinette rose in his defence because they knew, deep down inside, that it was probably deserved.

Abraxas was reaching for his wand because an attack on the Malfoy name could not go without a fight. Tom was looking between Hermione and Abraxas, trying to figure out if he should interfere or let them have their fun.

Their salvation from battle came from an abrupt exclamation from one Antoinette Malfoy: ''Let's play questions!''

''Questions?'' questioned Hermione.

Tom Riddle, in that moment, looked like he could kill a man. ''I am not playing.''

''No, it'll be fun!'' Abraxas clasped his hands together. Antoinette nodded along , already accioing parchment and ink to write on.

''Is this twenty questions?'' Hermione guessed correctly.

''Twenty?'' Tom Riddle wondered. ''I'm happy that it has a limit in the future. The last time Abraxas and I played this we spent _hours_ because he couldn't guess Galatea Merrythought.''

''Twenty is too few questions!'' Abraxas said. None of them had any sympathy for his dilemma.

''Twenty questions it is.'' Antoinette dipped her quill in her ink pot and began to write. As did they all. Tom Riddle half-heartedly scribbled down a name and chucked it in the pile.

When it was time to pick a name all one had to do was tap a parchment piece and it would immediately fly above one's head and float there for everyone else to see. Hermione marvelled at the magic. This was her first time playing a social game that wasn't completely muggle.

''The rules are you have to guess who you are supposed to be and who wrote your name. If you don't guess both you don't get a point.'' Abraxas explained and tapped his parchment. Everyone followed suit until the four of them were ready for this.

''Am I a parselmouth?'' Tom Riddle asked, allowing fed-upness to seep into his tone because this seemed like a common occurrence. Hermione looked at his name and snorted a laugh. It was Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore. Hermione was thrilled to have her name be on the person she wanted it on.

''No.'' Antoinette answered. ''Am I a woman?'' Atop her head lay a beautifully written Lord Byron. It looked like Tom Riddle's handwriting.

''No.'' Hermione replied. She glanced at Abraxas, saw Herpo The Foul on his piece of parchment, and asked him: ''Am I famous?''

''Yes.'' Antoinette answered.

''Am I a man Abraxas Malfoy has had a questionable crush on?'' Tom Riddle asked.

''Yes.'' Abraxas laughed and when he took a long look at everyone's written names he realised something. He snatched the piece of parchment off of his head and looked at it, saying that he'd written this. ''Does this mean I get another go?''

''No, you're eliminated.'' Tom Riddle said, just wanting the game to quickly end. Abraxas looked devastated for a few seconds and then promptly got over it by getting a peacock to sit in his lap while he watched them flounder with their questions.

''Am I famous?'' asked Antoinette.

''Yes.'' Came the unanimous answer.

''Am I someone I would know because there is a big time difference between what you all know and what I know.'' Hermione asked like a sensible time traveller.

''If you don't know who this is I am dumping you.'' Antoinette said and outsed herself. Hermione now knew it was Antoinette that had written her name. She observed Antoinette from head to toe. Her goth lifestyle would definitely be prominent, to this she could attest to. Chalk it up as woman's intuition.

''Am I queer?'' Tom Riddle asked.

''Yes!'' Abraxas Malfoy shouted.

''Abraxas, you aren't allowed to answer. You aren't playing.'' Tom Riddle scolded him.

''Am I writer?'' Antoinette asked.

''Yes.'' Tom Riddle answered.

''Am _I_ a writer?'' Hermione asked.

''Way to copy my questions.'' Antoinette mumbled at Hermione and Tom Riddle answered 'yes'.

''Am I pureblood?'' Tom Riddle asked.

''No.'' Abraxas and Hermione answered.

Tom Riddle looked confused. He whispered mainly to himself: ''Who the fuck was Abraxas crushing on that wasn't a pureblood besides me?''

''There's quite a lot of people you don't know about, Tom.'' Abraxas shot back.

''Now you've intrigued me.'' He said.

Antoinette kept asking questions and reached number twenty without guessing. She looked at Lord Byron and cursed how incredibly thick she was not to guess the squib version of Abraxas Malfoy himself. ''You wrote this, Riddle.'' The pureblood witch waved about the parchment and gestured Abraxas, ''And it was meant for this man right here.''

''Yes and yes. Sadly you lost because you didn't guess.''

Hermione and Tom were both equally stumped. They each had one more question to ask before guessing.

''Am I goth?'' Hermione asked.

''YES!'' Antoinette shouted.

''Mary fucking Shelley!'' Hermione said because that was the only goth woman author that came to mind. She grabbed the parchment over her head and read Mary Shelley, authoress of Frankenstein. Antoinette and Hermione embraced in a tight hug to celebrate their wicked knowledge.

''I didn't know you read muggle books.'' Hermione said, bemused.

''Mary is a squib. As are most romantic authors.''

The last man standing was Tom Riddle who felt unimaginable pressure in that moment to guess correctly or else shame himself and his sex in front of two queer women who were definitely never going to let him live this down. He tried to chance a glimpse into Abraxas' mind but found his occlumency shields up. Curse him and his fair sportsmanship!

He recalled the information he had. It was a queer non-pureblood man that Abraxas Malfoy had had a questionable crush on. It was also a real person, which helped. Very little.

''Do I like this person?'' Tom Riddle asked because he had an inkling as to who it may be.

Abraxas' guffawing told him enough.

Tom Riddle realised that he hated a lot of people in that moment. Too many to choose from.

''Three.'' Hermione began to count down.

''Two.'' Abraxas joined and laughed merrily at his not knowing. Tom Riddle hated not knowing things.

''One.'' Antoinette finished.

He snatched the parchment off of his head and scowled at the name, singeing the parchment with wandless fiendfyre. Hermione's snickering told him that she had written it to be a spiteful mess.

''Good game.'' Tom Riddle said and vowed never to play such nonsense names. ''Make my day, wife, is he dead in the future?''

Her snarl told him that Dumbledore was cold and unfeeling in the ground. It brought Tom Riddle joy that coated his entire person like a cloak.

''You are a monstrous man, Tom Riddle.'' Hermione sneered and stood from her chaise to leave the premises and be with her own thoughts away from the suffocating presence of a man whose life she will be in. They will share a flat and Hermione wondered how.

It was ten minutes after her departure to the peafowl infested garden that Hermione saw Tom Riddle approach her. He raised his hands in the air and said that he was unarmed and that he wished she wouldn't hex him like Abraxas. Hermione told him that he deserved much worse.

''Might you enlighten me as to how we can move past this tug of war of emotions?'' He asked. It was a condescending question, certainly, but if they were to live together and be married it was valid.

''I would prefer if I could like you.'' Hermione divulged. ''It would make everything easier.''

Tom Riddle awkwardly stood off to the side while Hermione held a monologue about what the future had in store and all the horror she'd faced because of him – and that no she did not want to be obliviated (this prompted a keening cry from her when she recalled her parents). The young Lord Voldemort saw her crying and became the most uncomfortable person in the world right then.

''My parents are dead, too. It's not as debilitating as you think-'' slowly he tried for some peacemaking. Hermione batted his hand away from her and snarled that he'd killed his own parents and that it wasn't the same.

''Do you know how tiresome it is to be unwanted, Hermione?'' He avoided the Malfoy moniker gifted to her because it would only get her riled up more. There was a bench near the lake she'd gone towards in the garden. Tom Riddle eased in it and said that Hermione could have a seat as well.

She bitterly laughed at his offer, calling him incapable of human decency. ''Do you know how much shite you cause? How many lives are lost because of your hubris and arrogance! You don't deserve to be fucking laughing and happy and playing games.''

''Hermione.'' Tom Riddle said, calm, eerily so. Proper occlumens knew how to keep their emotions in check. Hermione envied him then for she wasn't nearly as close to his level. ''Sit.'' He patted the bench and she decided to oblige.

They didn't touch and for that both were grateful. Tom Riddle stared at the lake and said, not keeping his eyes on Hermione or her messy appearance as it was rude to see a woman so undone emotionally. ''I won't justify myself to you, but know that you've already changed so much of the future that these … fits … are unnecessary. We're both very smart people. We can learn how to coexist. The flat does have two separate bedrooms, yes?''

''It's got three bedrooms, but you can use the third one for an office area because the study is mine already.'' Hermione sniffled, calming herself slowly. The lake reflected the stars in a twinkling fashion. ''That isn't a problem for you?''

Tom Riddle looked like a stereotypical heterosexual man agreeing to a wife's compromise in that moment of internal anguish at having to let go of a study area. ''No.''

''Would you let me help you become minister if you let me put some of my manifesto plans in action?'' Tom Riddle asked like a nerd that believed projects brought people together. This seemed like a couple thing to do.

''Sure.'' Hermione allowed and looked Tom Riddle. He was eighteen. Not a seventy-one year old deformed monster that was in everyone's nightmares. ''If I agree with you on it.''

''You will. Global domination is too ambitious a project to tackle alone. Besides I don't even really understand how politics _work_.'' He confided.

Hermione laughed at his confused face.

''I honestly don't. There's a mugwump? What the fuck is a mugwump? And sometimes it's okay to use dementors as capital punishment but other times for the same crime it isn't? Obviously money has a play in it but how much money is enough money? How fucking corrupt is this government?''

Thus began a long conversation about two outsiders debating the magical, pureblood predominant government that they would dress down unapologetically. This lasted for hours.

Abraxas Malfoy had to go out of his manor and take a long stroll towards them because his estate was enormous since he was inexplicably rich. He found Hermione's hair tousled, but demeanour confident with her eyes sparking with passion. Tom Riddle had the most in awe expression on his face as he listened raptly to Hermione's ideas overflowing from her mouth. She'd transfigured a flower from the garden into a parchment and was writing furiously on it, writing down Tom's softly spoken aloud ideas.

''Oh this is going to be fucking great.'' Hermione said and Tom affirmed that, making her feel even more validated. When creating a brand new system it was important to have support from those close by you. What better way than to make one's wife feel like she shouldn't hate your guts for existing than by diverting her attention towards something more interesting: ie politics.

''This is an ingenious idea.'' Tom Riddle said, genuinely meaning it. ''Not only will you get the halfblood/muggleborn votes because, well,'' young Voldemort gestured himself and haughtily said, ''I encompass that portion of wizarding Britain and our marriage solidifies you as a person who ought to care.''

Hermione snickered rolling up her dried parchment and swatted her husband with it. ''I thought people think you're a halfblood, where's this muggleborn status coming from?''

''Walburga Black still calls me a mudblood when it suits her. People are used to hearing me described as such. Riddle isn't a magical name.''

''You're a parselmouth!'' Hermione shouted. Her eyes were wide in disbelief.

''Mhmmm.'' Tom Riddle hummed. ''After Dumbledore's un-pedagogical reaction I kept this pretty under wraps, thank you. Few people know of that talent of mine.''

In moments like these when she could have a normal conversation with Tom she forgot she was speaking to Lord Voldemort. It filled her with a sense of relief that this marriage could stand unshaken. She had the contract. They were on the same side politically. (Fuck Dumbledore over was one point and the other main one was Fuck pureblood idealism and Walburga Black) All they needed to do was make a solid step by step plan.

''Not to mention you're a woman!'' Tom Riddle said like he had just noticed that. Obviously he had noticed this before but the abrupt yell caused Hermione to guffaw at him. ''All of the women will vote for you! It's that same-sex solidarity.''

''And the purebloods will vote for you because you're pretending to be a pureblood and are backed by me as my cousin! Legitimized of course!'' Abraxas Malfoy finally made his presence known and had to dodge two stinging hexes from wand-savvy prodigies.

''Abraxas you nearly gave me a heart attack!'' Hermione screamed at him. Abraxas apologized, looking frantic at the possibility of causing someone a heart attack.

Tom Riddle narrowed his eyes and asked for how long he'd been there. Abraxas said enough, to which Tom Riddle replied that he was really good at masking his presence. Abraxas thanked him for the compliment.

''As long as the Malfoy name doesn't lose its reputation and influence and - naturellement my wealth -'' Abraxas Malfoy sat between the two geniuses, wrapping arms around their necks and pulling them close to listen well, ''I haven't a problem with whatever your backward minds think of.''

''Backward?'' Hermione said in the same tone someone who was willing to physically throw down would use. Tom Riddle defused the situation by pecking a chaste kiss on Abraxas' lips and telling him that his fears were unfounded and that everything would be taken care of so the Malfoy name would rise in power.

Abraxas scrunched up his face at the physical gesture and smiled like a goof, leaning into Tom. ''Mon chou.'' he whispered fondly.

Hermione looked at this, looked at Tom, then back to Abraxas, and held a question in her eyes that Tom Riddle deciphered quickly: ''What the fuck is this?''

Tom Riddle wisely said nothing, because he himself had no idea how he'd become involved with a rich bloke like Abraxas Malfoy. They say opposites attract and by god was that fucking true with this case.

''How did you two meet?'' Hermione asked. At the pleased glint in Abraxas' eyes she gathered that this was a talk he loved having with people. Tom Riddle breathed in deeply and exhaled through his nose, trying to hide a laugh when Abraxas pushed both of them away from himself to flaunt his arms around while he played storyteller.

''We met in our first year but we didn't start spending time with each other until fifth year. OWLs were rolling up and I had absolutely no idea how to pass. I had no idea how to cheat either to make matters worse. My mother was threatening to cut me off financially if I made a mockery of my name, as you know.'' Neither Hermione nor Tom knew what it was like to be scions of a pureblood name.

He stood from the bench and began to pace about, mimicking his frantic fifteen year old's self. ''I was terrified! All of my friends knew that they knew enough to pass. Because they were all know it alls and I was the only one hip enough to skip class.'' Abraxas explained.

Hermione snorted. ''You were the cool bad boy.''

''Bien sur!''

She turned to Tom and asked him if he'd ever skipped a class in his life.

''I did not. Knowledge is power.''

''You never skipped History?'' Hermione diverted the topic to really drive home what a nerd Tom Riddle really was. Even she skipped class (though if she wasn't involved with Ron and Harry she probably wouldn't have dared)

''History is fascinating.''

''History is tosh!'' Abraxas Malfoy said and returned to the topic at hand: the miraculous friendship between him and Tom. ''I failed all of the practise tests.'' he said this as if praising himself which made Hermione gape. Tom Riddle nodded in solidarity. ''Slughorn told me if I didn't pull myself up I wouldn't finish fifth year. That was motivator for me to open a book. In a library. Any book. I just took a book off of a shelf and began to skim it.''

Tom Riddle interjected. ''This is my favourite part.''

Hermione dreaded whatever constituted as Tom Riddle's favourite part in any story.

''Then I began to cry when I realised how much there was to learn and memorize. I'm not good at memorizing, I don't have photographic memory like this one right here.'' He gestured Tom Riddle who was smug like a snake that had just eaten and was lazing in the sun, pleased with itself.

''Hey, I've got that, too.'' Hermione said. Tom smiled. ''Wonderful.''

Hermione raised her hand in the air to gesture a high five in the making and said: ''High five.''

''A what now?'' Tom Riddle bemusedly asked. He observed the raised open palm and wondered what he was supposed to do with that.

''You make the same gesture with your palm and then slap it across mine.''

Tom Riddle formed the open palm movement and gently tapped Hermione's palm in return. She laughed at him, causing him to feel very stupid. ''Fine,'' he said and remade the gesture, this time letting Hermione show him how to make a high five.''High five me.''

Hermione high fived him like any Gryffindor would, very hard while making a very powerful slap noise. Tom Riddle bit down a scream as he cradled his hand, cursing Hermione and her Gryffindor mentality.

''Fuck, do all of you fucking fucks enjoy inflicting pain on yourselves? What kind of Dumbledore bullshit is this?'' He bemoaned.

To prove that she hadn't slapped him that hard Hermione high fives Abraxas with the same force as before. He made a face of pain but flicked his hand a few times to air out the pain and said that it wasn't as hard as Tom was making it out to be.

''He's very physically weak.'' Abraxas explained Tom Riddle's skinny disposition. ''It's the malnourishment, the intellectualism, and his ardent hatred for physical exercise.'' Then, even more appalled. ''He hates quidditch!''

''I don't like quidditch either.'' Hermione said. Abraxas screeched at the scandal of such an admission.

''You're the only person I know that doesn't like quidditch.'' Tom Riddle said like a man who's found a soulmate for himself. Pain forgotten he slipped to a bent position and took out the ring he had on him. It was giant and Hermione looked at Abraxas, marvelling at how easily he spent so much money, without batting an eyelid.

''Hermione, marry me and I promise we won't ever go to a quidditch match.''

''Oh,'' Hermione clasped her hands together, pretending to be on the verge of tears, ''I accept as long as you aren't against getting some muggle technology in our flat because I am not going to spend the rest of my life living in informatic isolation and ignorance.''

''That sounds fair as long as I don't have to be anywhere near muggles.''

Abraxas Malfoy watched this exchange like one would a terrible broom accident. It was terrible and one could not look away.

Tom slid the ring on Hermione's finger and rose to shake hands with her like a proper pretend husband should. None of this kissing and hugging nonsense of this cutthroat couple, thank you.

''Congratulations.'' Abraxas said, peeved at being interrupted in the middle of his story. ''May I continue now?''

''Sure.''

''So I'm crying in the library very loudly, bawling more like. I am going to fail my OWLs and become a mockery.'' Abraxas snapped his fingers and said: ''But then! Tom Riddle, slytherin prefect and smug about it,'' Tom Riddle made no word in his defence thus saying that this description was fair, ''comes up to me and asks me why I'm being a fucking nuisance because he can't hear himself think.''

''You see someone crying and your initial reaction is to make them cry harder?'' Hermione asked Tom who nodded.

''Yes.''

''Horrible.''

''It was OWLs week what would you have done when someone was ruining your study time?''

''I would have hauled them out of the library physically.'' Hermione said seriously. She remembered OWLs and how aggressive she was and how much pain she had wished to cause other people (cough Umbridge cough).

''Well, I offered to teach him if he paid me.'' Tom said because Tom was poor and wanted to capitalize on rich people's over privileged tears.

''And I continue to pay him for his friendship even now!''

Hermione choked.


	6. Chapter 6

Hermione Granger woke up to her wedding day in pain and bleeding. Which was every bride's secret nightmare. The pain cascading through her lower back was akin to someone sledgehammering into her sides. This terrifying description was something totally normal women went through every month.

She looked dazed, rose uncomfortably to go to the bathroom to wash up because Hermione was one of those morning shower people, and then she cursed really colourfully when she realised what day today was and how horribly cruel life was to her.

Her first thought was: This isn't happening.

Her second thought was: Fuck everyone. Fuck this wedding. Fuck you universe.

Antoinette came into her room around eight in the morning to see if Hermione was well and ready to get married today. Upon spotting Hermione curled up in her scourgified bed she noticed that the blushing bride was scowling and seething in silence. If she moved the pain would come back and Hermione had had a whole life dealing with pain and it wasn't fair to be in pain on your wedding. She didn't even know what kind of drugs she could take since it was 1945 for fuck's sake.

Couldn't she have just travelled further into the future where things like period cramps were eliminated altogether? The past was worse on any medical regard. Would she be given morphine or cocaine or whatever else they deemed particularly good? Hermione wasn't thinking straight (see that pun) therefore all of her internal ramblings ought to be disregarded.

Antoinette moved like a billowing spectre in her black robe. It was the darkest Hermione had ever seen. In the future it would be something called vantablack, but right now they didn't have words for that. Hermione thought it was like a black hole. She dipped the bed when sitting down next to Hermione and told her that she had some meds for her.

''Though, I warn you that it does not mix with alcohol well.''

Alcohol was consumed in kilolitres on weddings.

''Yay.'' Hermione half-heartedly said, holding herself while holding an uncomfortable looking position that no one would voluntarily get in. Yet if she moved, the pain would come back.

The magical drugs helped. Hermione walked around after that without much impairment. She put on her robe and had her hair and makeup done by professionals. Antoinette had signed as her witness, but more pureblood women would be around her all day as her magical equivalent for bride's maids.

Primrose Parkinson had corked open a rose in 9am and was drinking like it was her duty in life to raid the Malfoy port. Iris Selwyn was invited even though her parents were divorced - her impeccable makeup skills saved her there. She touched up Hermione's eyeliner with her wand and stuck it all so no amount of sweat and dancing would smudge it.

Walburga Black arrived last, but a Black was never late everyone else had just come earlier to see the magnificent entrance which befitted the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black.

She wore a red robe to hide all of the blood from the pierced ear drums of the people around her.

''YOU LOOK NICE FOR A BASTARD, DEAR!''

Was the first thing she said to Hermione on her wedding day. Hermione narrowed her eyes like one would at seeing something unfathomable. The worst part of it was that Sirius looked most like her. She had seen a portrait of Orion Black and had caught a glimpse of him in Tout (which was closed and would forever remain as such) but he looked very little like his eldest son.

The woman herself. Toxicity personified.

Walburga Black sat down next to Hermione and took her hands in hers, keeping her eyes firmly on Hermione Granger's. Black pooled into copper. ''If you feel at any time,'' the Black heiress herself began, ''that you want to cancel this wedding because you are marrying a man lesser than you - I will personally fight your cousin Abraxas. No pureblood woman should feel trapped in her marriage. Tom Riddle,'' evident hatred, ''is mudblood filth and is not allowed to be happy. This is just another ploy of Abraxas' to have him in the family.'' one hand reached to pat Hermione's cheek like she was a child and not older than Walburga Black (though, fine, ok, Hermione wasn't going to interrupt this scene), ''He's a homosexual, are you aware?''

''Who?'' Hermione leaned closer and pretended to not know that everyone currently living in Malfoy Manor was queer.

''Both Abraxas Malfoy and Tom Riddle. Naturally that's a filthy notion that Tom Riddle infected poor 'Braxas with.'' Walburga Black nodded slowly allowing Hermione to take in this information. She let out a small gasp of shock for drama's sake. It wouldn't do her well to fight Walburga Black. Letting her talk proved bigger fun than anything else.

''But how does that even work?'' Hermione pretended to be a proper pureblood debutante girl sheltered from sex, especially that of same sex.

Primrose, Antoinette and Iris were making sure the flower and seating arrangements were impeccable as this was a very high society wedding and needed to be perfect.

So, while those three escaped the clutches of Walburga Black, Hermione Granger had to listen to her giving lectures about proper pureblood conduct and how if Abraxas truly were queer he would not take a mudblood to bed with him.

Hermione's glamoured arm pulsated with phantom pains each time Walburga Black rolled the slur on her tongue nonchalantly as if she might say muggleborn. Her wand sizzled - Bellatrix Lestrange's wand actually (as her wand had been snatched and broken by snatchers). Hermione thought about poetic justice and having a Black wand used to kill a Black by a mudblood's hand.

Sadly, that would be counterproductive to her political plans. Walburga Black was an important piece Hermione needed.

''So, when are you going to have children?'' Walburga Black asked.

''When are you?'' Hermione asked in the same tone of voice one might infer the abundance of inbreeding done in this family.

Walburga grinned and it was the same kind of lopsided grin Sirius Black had sneered insults in at Snape. God, Hermione thought, this was too much to bear. Her appearance reminisced Sirius Black because of genetics, but her hair and the way the pureblood witch held herself screamed Bellatrix Lestrange.

''I am not married yet.'' Walburga Black said. ''You are.''

''The ceremony-''

''Is formality. The contracts are where the magic truly happens. This is for show. To have memories and fun.'' Walburga Black explained and hummed at her lack of pureblood knowledge. ''How do they do it in Australia?''

Hermione floundered and gave a half arsed explanation how they signed the contract at the ceremony.

Walburga closed one eye and made a grimace that told Hermione her lying was horrible.

''I don't believe you.'' the Black heiress said and stood from her chair, moving past Hermione and 'accidentally' caressing her inner wrist, unglamouring the stark mudblood scar.

''My.'' Walburga Black said to a petrified Hermione who didn't know what to do in that situation because from what she'd gathered any attempt on Walburga would be met with scandal and public ostracization. ''Perhaps you and Riddle are more suited for one another than I first thought. Enjoy your marriage. I'll talk to that equally filthy husband of yours and decide what to do with this information.''

''I hope you don't do something rash.'' Hermione searched for words. Compared to Lucius Malfoy and Draco Malfoy the Blacks were a whole other tier of pureblood intensity. She'd turned a blind eye to this madness residing inside each Black because Sirius had been a member of the Order and Bellatrix had spent too many years in Azkaban, in lust with Voldemort.

Walburga Black, however much she was horrible, was also terrifying in a way Hermione was unaccustomed to managing. She knew boogeymen mad with power and ministry officials who hungered for inflicting chaos and ignorance to promote their agenda - Hermione had never before known someone whose simple, verbal snub could end her life before it began.

* * *

''RIDDLE!'' Walburga Black shouted and the entire congregation of groomsmen (knights) surrounding the groom (their lord) startled. They'd all spent seven years with her in school, but were still not used to her booming voice. Least of all Tom Riddle who knew that she was going to be speaking to him and therefore he could not turn himself off while she shouted.

''Hello, Miss Black,'' Tom Riddle, eternally playing prefect and head boy in his head, ''thank you for coming to my wedding. It is an honour to host the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black.''

She inclined her head in a small nod to agree with his cordial words. Then, however, her eyes sparked with anger and retribution none of the knights were brave enough to face. When she scattered them from the room and fixed Tom Riddle with a hideous glare she asked him, nicely: ''What is the meaning of that bride?''

''You saw through her already?'' Tom Riddle marvelled. Hating someone's guts didn't mean that he was incapable of being impressed by them.

''Black magic is mind magic. We could survive Azkaban better than any magical family ever could. Legilimency and occlumency, we brought to England.'' she praised and lauded her family tree, listing all of the accomplishments they credited themselves. ''Her shields were weak and her lying was that of a gryffindor.''

''Don't tell?'' Tom Riddle smiled like someone who was dying on the inside.

Walburga snorted at him and remained standing where he sat, liking the height difference and the boldness she felt when she towered over a man.

"What's in it for me?" Walburga asked. She was richer and more influential than Abraxas Malfoy. Tom Riddle did not see what Walburga Black could be bribed with.

"What do you _want_?"

Walburga Black shrugged. "I want for nothing.''

"Yes, I know this." Tom Riddle said. "There has to be something."

Walburga Black thought about what she wanted and came to the conclusion that there was literally nothing she wanted other than to shame Tom Riddle publically for his upstart behaviour. Thought he could be a pureblood consort, did he? Ha!

"There isn't." Walburga said and left Tom Riddle frustrated and wishing he could do something about Walburga Black's infuriating existence.

His eyes had never been redder than in that moment.

* * *

Abraxas Malfoy was surrounded by problems. He solved them mostly by flinging money at people and begging them to do the work necessary to fix these messes. The flowers and seating arrangement of which Antoinette was responsible had no problems, but his part of wedding planning? Everything under his jurisdiction? Chaos and anarchy and suffering.

The food was mixed up. They'd switched the number of those ordering fish and beef. Abraxas Malfoy screamed at the elves responsible for this and told them off for not reading properly. One said it was illiterate, Abraxas Malfoy screeched in anger at his own incompetence for not having proper house elves on this job.

The priestess there to walk them through the ceremony was missing because his estate was unimaginably big. He sent a search party to look for her in his maze of a garden. Thoros Nott left to go find her, accompanied by Lestrange Redmond, and Orion Black. The three of them were Abraxas and Tom's roommates for seven years and were very honoured to be at this wedding.

Orion Black had said that he had no comment regarding Tom Riddle as his fiance Walburga Black disallowed him to have thoughts of his own.

''Mon Merlin!'' Abraxas Malfoy pulled at his luscious locks. The guests were arriving and Antoinette had people there to greet and seat them. She was like a beacon of darkness in a world of white and cream colours he'd picked to adorn the venue. Except for the arch which was supposed to be beautiful and magnificent and everything TOm Riddle deserved.

No, that order got mixed up and the magical architect wich was supposed to know how to transfigure the piece of complex magic turned out to be a stupid man that was simply lauded and had no experience in the trade whatsoever. Abraxas Malfoy swore that he would never trust what anybody said about Lockharts ever again.

''Ignatius Lockhart, get off of my property!'' he bellowed.

The man obliged.

''You're all hacks!'' Abraxas said and predicted Gilderoy Lockhart's mere existence. ''Your children will be hacks, Ignatius!''

''Probably true!'' Ignatius Lockhart said, wobbly form the sunstroke he received this humid summer day and the alcohol he'd consumed like a man wanting to die of alcohol poisoning.

People came and left their gifts (vases with loads of money Abraxas already knew Tom Riddle would have no idea what to do with first). Those that liked Abraxas lingered to hold small talk with him. Minerva McGonagall held herself upright like a proper scottish warrioress.

''I was surprised to be invited.'' the young witch confided. She had made her stance perfectly known that she was on Dumbledore's side. ''I take it neither you nor Riddle had anything to do with the guest list.''

''My wife would be to blame.'' Abraxas said and shook hands with her, not deigning to kiss a halfblood hand of an acquaintance. ''Enjoy yourself, Minerva. I need to go and save my face because everything is horrible.''

''I do hope she hasn't invited Alastor Moody.'' Minerva shuddered, grimacing. ''He's harassing me into joining the auror department even though he knows I got that transfiguration apprenticeship under Albus Dumbledore.''

Abraxas Malfoy had a lot of things to say about Minerva's wanting to be under Albus Dumbledore, but kept his tongue bitten down and silenced. Because this was salvation!

''How good are you at transfiguration?''

Minerva McGonagall snorted and said that she was the best. ''How dare you even ask me that.''

''You're right, my apologies.'' Abraxas said, bent to apologetically kiss Minerva's hand like a proper pureblood gentleman he was, and then told her all about his wedding arch mania.

''I could make one, no problem.''

Problem one - fixed.

Thoros Nott and rescue company came back with the priestess - Electra Lovegood, if Abraxas recalled correctly. They all looked like they had battled foul enemies as they emerged from his forest, cut up and hair messed and clothes scratched to ribbons.

''Where have you all been?'' Abraxas shouted, arms in the air.

''YOU HAVE FUCKING BEARS ON YOUR ESTATE!'' Thoros Nott shouted back.

''I THOUGHT THEY WERE FUCKING EXTINCT HOW DO YOU HAVE BEARS!'' Redmond Lestrange screamed.

''AREN'T PEACOCKS ENOUGH FOR YOU?'' came Orion Black's terrified question.

Electra Lovegood gave him a thumb up and said that bears were lovely to have as estate guardians.

''I didn't know I had bears.'' Abraxas whispered, vowing to get to the bottom of this. Perchance it was his grandfather Zeus' doing. The man had liked mauling intruders and thieves so it seemed most his style to simply have bears on the estate. Probably enchanted alive by magic.

He travelled to the scene of the crime, going to a part of his estate that hadn't been walked on in years. There were two bears. Big brown bears.

One was attacking a peacock.

"HEY!" Abraxas Malfoy took out his wand and was prepared to kill when his peacocks were threatened. One of the bears growled at him. The other stopped its bearhandling of his peacock and looked oddly at the Malfoy heir.

"STOP THAT!" Abraxas pointed his wand at them both. "BAD BEARS!"

The peacock fluttered its feathers and fled to Abraxas' side, cawing in fear. He patted it gently. Then he decided to finite the enchantment on the bears and see what would come from them.

They poofed. And a letter in their stead appeared it was in his grandfather Zeus' handwriting.

Dear grandson (I presume because I do hope someone has found my bears before a great-grandson could be born)

If you are wondering why these bears are here even after my death know that it is because I am more powerful in death than most magical people are in life. Why bears you may ask? Simple, bears are awesome.

Since you are reading this letter I have good reason to believe my bears are finished. This saddens me, but it is probably for the best.

Good luck, grandson or other.

With love

Zeus Malfoy

P.S. Bears are better estate guardians than peacocks. Get over your obsession, Abraxas.

Abraxas Malfoy let out a horrified snark and vowed never to venture deep within his estate because he worried what else he might find.

Then he apparated to Tom's quarters to fetch him.

The groom was oddly fascinated with a mirror, seeing himself in particular curiosity. He didn't even have to glance at Abraxas to know the man was there. "You failed to mention I would have to wear makeup. Iris Selwyn just left me in this state."

Abraxas neared him from behind and tilted his head to look at the famed dark lord that wasn't anymore in the making.

"Tom, you never looked better."

There was slight eyeshadow applied on him with mascara he was trying to blink out of his eye quickly. It was tame, but too much for his muggle-raised sensibilities.

Abraxas tilted his head and kissed him, calling him perfect. Tom Riddle narrowed his red eyes which popped with the added layer of makeup. ''Stop that.'' he said but since he wasn't being hostile Abraxas took that as him being uncomfortable with affection.

''Do you mind if you have beef instead of fish, the elves messed up on the numbers and it's reversed.''

''Abraxas, this is my day. If I want fucking fish you are to switch plates with someone less important than me today and get me that fish.'' Tom answered pettily. He looked at himself in the mirror again and snorted at the makeup.

''Is this the first time you've had it on you, Tom?''

''Obviously, else I wouldn't be this fascinated by it.'' Tom answered, making faces to see how he looked like in movement with it. Then he stopped his game when a thought occurred to him. ''You need to talk to Walburga Black. She's seen through Hermione and I can't very well do anything to her. You're a Malfoy, _handle her_.''

''Did you try bribing her?''

''Apparently she wants for nothing.''

''Mhmm.'' Abraxas Malfoy hummed and apologetically swore to get her off of their backs.''You need to go and get to your post.'' The Malfoy ordered the groom who rose and disapparated to the gardens (the public, non bear infested area - peafowls were there as flower girls and boys)

Slughorn didn't wait for Tom to collect himself before trapping him in a hug and holding him until he couldn't breathe physically, already smelling of brandy and crying publically. ''My boy! I cannot explain to you how happy I am you have found a girl for yourself!''

Tom Riddle patted Slughorn's hand like one would to tap out from a choke hold and croaked out a hoarse thank you.

More people came to congratulate him. He spotted Minerva McGonagall avoiding Alastor Moody to the best of her abilities in the background. She looked just about ready to hex him. They both wore tartan robes.

He sought after Antoinette to ask her who the fuck she'd invited to his special day.

''Everyone I knew you knew. Not Dumbledore, of course. Your animosity for him is apparent. There's Galatea Merrythought, I heard she's your idol.''

Tom Riddle glanced in the direction where Antoinette had inclined her head towards and halted. His Defence professor was on his wedding. Tom Riddle had always respected and revered her in class, admiring how brutal she was with her wand when it came to teaching. No class of hers had been a waste.

If the woman ever retired he hoped he was capable of filling her shoes. Was it bad if he really hoped she retired so he could quit hjs retail job? Nobody deserved to work in retail. Tom Riddle was a changed man. Changed men did not deserve the mental anguish.

Burke, the man responsible for tipping Voldemort into becoming homicidal, appeared with a vase (Tom Riddle had no idea where to put all of those fucking vases) and probably the equivalent of one of his meagre pays.

He slammed a hard hand across Tom's back and told him that he was happy Tom had found himself a good wife to elevate him in the pureblood run world.

"It comes as a relief for me to see you well off." Burke said and when Tom tried to ask something was shut up by another manly slap that rattled his bones excruciatingly, "This won't be so devastating for you. Do you remember the Head of the Auror Department that likes to yell at you a lot?"

"Yes." Tom Riddle furrowed his brow and wondered what any of this had to do with his wedding day.

"Well he's asked me to fire you. So I am. Goodbye, Tom Riddle. Have a good marriage." Burke said and left before he could be asked questions leaving the vase in Tom Riddle's confused hands.

He'd just been fired from his first job on his wedding day.

"I...do not know how to feel about this." He hoped Abraxas was having a better day.

* * *

Abraxas found Walburga Black ready to spill all of the secrets she was privy to. ''Homosexuals are wrong and this entire farce of a wedding goes against my beliefs! Not only this, but the bride is not a pureblood as I first thought!''

Abraxas pursed his lips and thought about how he was going to break Walburga's resolve this fine august day.

She stood rigidly proud. No wind or explosion could deter her. An implosion of what she thought was true turning out to be false - now that could destroy everyone.

''Is she even your cousin? A relative of some forgotten squib?''

''Walbie,'' Abraxas fondly said and the woman refused to soften her sharp thorns decorating her black rose demeanour. ''Most of sacred twenty-eight is queer.''

''I refuse to believe that!''

''Iris Selwyn is a queer girl, but she likes men more. Redmond Lestrange likes them both equally. Alphard, your little brother, has on multiple occasions propositioned me. For Merlin's sake, Walburga Orion is a homosexual-''

Walburga Black went to slap him in outrage and scandal. Abraxas used those mad quidditch reflexes and dodged the hell out of that attempted slap.

''You are lying!''

''No. Am not. Not lying at all. He and I got acquainted last year - would you like details?''

Walburga Black was left speechless. It was something very hard to do. More rare than a double rainbow with thestrals going across it.

She looked at him, being an expert legilimens that she is, saw that he wasn't lying and said that she wanted to reveal Hermione even more now. ''You've just made me more mad, you foolish boy!''

''Okay, Hermione is a time traveller and anything you want to learn from the past she'll tell you as long as you don't out her. And also you need to endorse her when her political campaigning takes off.''

This, Walburga Black found valid enough not to be a bitch.

''Fine.'' Walburga let go. ''But you aren't allowed to fuck Orion anymore.''

''Honey, try and _stop_ me.''

''ABRAXAS!''

* * *

"Oi," came an irish voice of a woman that drew Tom's attention. It was Galatea Merrythought. She swooped to him in two quick strides. By looking at her no one would give her over 56 when in fact she was 200. She'd taught Dumbledore as a boy at Hogwarts and was full of wisdom to give.

"Hello, profess-" Tom Riddle was cut off by her telling him he should enjoy himself. And then the cold and distant woman that most Hogwarts students feared did something Tom Riddle would never have thought possible: she cried and pulled Tom in a hug, telling him how happy she was for him.

"You've always been my favourite!" This was not news as Tom Riddle was everyone's favourite except for Dumbledore's.

"Thank you?"

"If you need anything never hesitate to write me." the old woman wagged her finger at him, "Don't be a little cunt. Promise me."

When Tom saw that his idol expected he give a verbal response Tom Riddle whispered so only she heard his half-mumbled: "I promise not to be a little cunt and to write if I need anything."

"Not just if you need something! I would like you to write me because you care about me. Oh weddings make me so emotional. I remember the magically binding ceremony that had me and my wife joined in beautiful matrimony." a dreamy sigh from the grey haired woman.

"Wife?" Tom Riddle began to understand that the wizarding world was just entirely queer.

"Oh yes! This is why I am so happy for you and your beard. Abraxas and you can be together. She respects this union of yours, doesn't she?"

"Hermione is very sympathetic."

This was somehow right? (Wrong?) to say because Merrythought began to cry in earnest then. Tom Riddle patted her hair and told her that there weren't need for tears. People caring about him felt foreign.

"I can die now!" Merrythought exclaimed. This was disconcerting to one thantophobia obsessed Tom Riddle.

''Please, do not die on my account. You are my favourite professor.''

Merrythought choked the life out of him via hug, but it was somehow okay. When he resigned himself to the suffocation it was even quite enjoyable to be hugged.

A well wisher pulled him away from the hug. It was Thoros Nott. ''You need to go to position and get married. It's starting.''

''Thank you, Nott.''

Everyone who thought of coming was sitting down. The chairs were soft lime green to go with both Hermione's blue robe (10/10 good robe, really swell to marry in, proper pockets to stuff a wand in if anyone thought to be a bitch) and Tom's deep purple (fine robe, uncomfortably expensive)

The Lovegood priestess guided them through a beautiful ceremony with latin and animal sacrifice and a tad more nakedness than either muggle-raised magicals were comfortable with. They didn't write vows as their vows would mostly be too pragmatic for a wedding.

One thing remained the same throughout all weddings, wizard or not.

''You may now kiss the bride!'' Lovegood said and smiled happily at them. Hermione pretended to cry by focusing on the pain smashing into her lower abdomen. Tom Riddle was actually blinking tears away because a spot of mascara had fallen into his eye.

Tom Riddle kissed her expertly as if having done this before and Hermione was happy for that because she'd kissed Ron and Viktor and would be mortified if Tom Riddle had no idea what he was doing. The man had probably looked up kissing strategies. Thankfully, he used no tongue.

Hermione leaned into it because it would be suspicious otherwise.

Abraxas Malfoy cried. Loudly. Walburga Black was deafened by his screech.

Afterwards, speeches were held.

Abraxas Malfoy sauntered drunkenly to the podium and held a sonorous charm to his throat to amplify his voice. He leaned on a caryatid they'd brought from greece to liven up the place.

''I met Tom when we were eleven on the train. He was reading and my first thought of him was that he was a know it all and I wanted nothing to do with him.'' Tear sprang in his eyes, then. ''If I knew I would be holding his best man speech at his wedding which my COUSIN is also a part of - everyone give it up for Hermione and Tom Malfoy!'' Everyone clapped, even Walburga Black did so as not to appear out of place. ''I would never have colluded with mudbloods and the like. But Tom, here, just won over my heart in fifth year when he helped me pass OWLs and NEWTs - everyone, give another round of applause for the man who helped me get out of school un-shamed.'' Another, less enthusiastic applause.

''We're Riddles!'' Hermione said and looked at Tom who just told her not to argue with him because it was needless.

''We know we're Riddles, the priestess christened us as such - there's no reason to give a shit about his opinion.'' then, humorously, ''Mrs. Riddle.''

Hermione rolled her eyes and shrugged. ''Husband dear.'' she called him.

''We need pet names.'' Tom said because all couples had pet names. If they wished to be authentic they needed proper pet names.

That was really hard because neither wanted to dissolve into Won-Won and Lav-Lav madness. They tried out a few more couple names like poppet and love but Hermione was too uncomfortable hearing Lord Voldemort calling her that.

''Maybe we're one of those couples that don't do that?'' Hermione suggested.

''Fair.''

Then they tried variations of their names. Mione was reserved for Harry and Ron and Tom Riddle could go fuck off. That was fair. He didn't like her calling him Tom, even though that was his name because it reminded him of his father too much.

''What if I call you Marv?'' Hermione asked.

''Marv?''

''Like Marvolo.''

''I'll allow it on the condition you let me call you Herman.''

''Why _Herman_?''

''Antoinette called you Herm and it sounds just as stupid as Marv.''

In the end this was decreed:

''Let's just call each other husband and wife - it seems like less of a hassle.''

''Fair enough, wife.''

''Husband.''

''Wife.''

''It's so fucking weird to be married.''

''Mhm.'' Tom hummed and took a drink to his lips, swinging it back to prepare himself mentally for the latin songs he would be forced into singing.

The men began to form an open circle. Tom led one end while Lestrange found himself at the latter end. They started singing off key about fertility in latin. Walburga Black, pissed drunk, took out a hurdy gurdy from her enchanted pocket, unshrinking it and began playing as follow up.

Hermione spotted Minerva McGonagall (holy shit holy shit Minerva fucking McGonagall was at her wedding, Hermione wanted to go meet her holy shit her idol, her favourite professor was so young and so cool!) dancing into the open circle. She grabbed Tom Riddle's hand and inserted herself between Abraxas and him, stressing the words in an inflection Tom Riddle was not aware of. It was the kindest way she could tell the groom he was the one being off key.

Tom thanked her with a nod and when he could follow the song, Minerva retreated to the girls.

Antoinette stood atop a table, dragging Hermione up there with her. ''You need to jump in Riddle's arms later. It's about now.'' The bridesmaids began to sing a song, but the bride was exempt from that. It was to ward off evil spirits and lure them away from Hermione.

Minerva introduced herself to Hermione. ''I know your husband, he beat me by a point in Transfiguration in our NEWTs and I'll skin him for that.''

Hermione nearly stopped breathing as she shook hands with YOUNG MINERVA FUCKING MCGONAGALL! BEST WEDDING GIFT EVER!

''Thank you for coming to my weDDING.'' Hermione stopped speaking like a proper human being, too struck by this phenomenon which was young Minerva FUCKING McGonagall! Scottish menace and best Hogwarts professor ever.

She was too enamoured by the sight that when it was her time to jump into Tom Riddle's unprepared arms Antoinette had to push her. If it weren't for Abraxas Malfoy being there both Riddles would have toppled over.

Cheers sounded. Sparks flew. Dancing resumed and so did the drinking. Antoinette told Hermione to drink as much as she could because if she didn't drink people would think this was a shotgun marriage created out of pregnancy. Hermione toasted to that sexist notion of thinking.

Walburga Black, yet again, demanded everything be about her. She pulled Tom Riddle from the crowd and ordered them to have a drinking contest.

By the end of their wedding, when the time for the newly weds to retire and consummate (HA) their marriage, both Riddles were barely standing upright.

Upon apparating to their flat, Tom Riddle collapsed. Hermione, who was a Gryffindor and therefore knew her way around a drink because quidditch mad lads drank more than was humanly possible. She had learned to keep calm whilst under the influence because Harry and Ron knew how. And Hermione would not be shown up by her less intelligent friends - no sir.

Tom Riddle, however, had been an outcast in his house that was avoided and uninvited to most gatherings. The balls where he could interact with other houses were all scrutinized by staff and therefore had had no alcohol. This was his first time drunk.

And like anyone that got wasted completely the first time - he hated every minute of his existence. The newly furnished room spun around. He grasped at the wall and leaned into it, pressing his dizzy head against the cool texture and material of the wall.

Apparating anywhere like that was begging for a splinch to occur. But because the forces that be were watching over newly weds, nothing happened.

''You okay?'' Hermione asked. She giggled at the intense expression of confusion on TOm Riddle that would definitely be reminiscent of someone wondering why they needed any of this. ''If you're going to be sick, I really do recommend that you do get sick cuz it'll be easier.''

''You're focking tellin' me to throw up?'' the cockney seeped through. Hermione wondered why he'd never indulged. He was in London.

Ah right, nerd. He was a nerd.

Hermione wrapped an arm around Tom and, very giggly, led him towards a bathroom to wash up or deal with the stuffed feeling alcohol left behind.

He leaned into her for support and asked her why anyone would ever want to drink.

''It's real cool.'' Hermione slurred. The medication she'd taken for the cramps did not mix well. ''But I wanna sleep. So badly. Tom let's go.''

Tom Riddle thought about brushing his teeth, but found himself too tired to attempt anything. His feet were sore from the dancing, he was exhausted by the singing, and the well-wishing. He just wanted to rest.

When they got to the bedroom doors, Tom Riddle thought it was wholly unfair for his room to be farther down.

''I'm sleeping with you. Don't care. G' fucking night.'' eloquently the man said and followed Hermione inside her room. Trying to get their robes off was a mess. But somehow they managed without magic because they weren't ready to see what inebriated casting would reap.

''Fuck this.'' Tom Riddle said and kicked off his robe, victoriously raising his arms in the air, losing balance, and falling onto the side of the queen sized bed (because rich people furnished it and of course there would only be queen sized beds).

Hermione struggled to unbutton her thousand buttons because woman fashion. She pulled Tom Riddle to help her and he sloppily did, cursing in parseltongue and cockney english at the same time somehow. She wasn't going to go into it. To analyse this surreal experience was just not something worth doing.

''Can I just rip it off?'' Tom Riddle asked.

''If you looked at the price tag and saw how much it was worth you wouldn't.''

''I'll regret this when I'm sober, I just wanna sleep.'' Tom Riddle delightedly proclaimed and ripped Hermione's robe off of her. Thank god for undergarments.

Hermione lied down on the bed, mushing her face against one of the pillows. Tom Riddle squinted at the turned on light they'd forgotten to turn off.

''Acciooo,'' he tried and then remembered that he couldn't just accio darkness. He pushed Hermione and asked her if there was a spell to turn off lights without standing up.

The groggy, giggly witch mumbled something about a deluminator.

''The fuck is a deluminator?'' Tom Riddle wondered.

''It's this device,'' Hermione slowly explained fighting down slurred speech like a pro, ''that lets you take out light. And then it's dark.''

''That's the opposite of deluminating.'' Tom Riddle said, waiting for validation for his amazing rhetoric.

''Illuminating?'' Hermione asked and from her awkward position Tom Riddle could see all of those hidden chins women didn't want men to see because unrealistic beauty standards.

''I'm just gonna levitate the fucking light bulb off.'' Tom Riddle said and attempted to do so wandlessly. Hermione cheered him on, wanting darkness to envelop them. Her husband, fuck she was never going to get used to that, got frustrated halfway through the process and the light bulb burst and DARKNESS came.

''FUCK YES!'' she exclaimed and Tom Riddle just snapped his fingers and said that that was always the plan.

''Good plan, husbaaand.'' Hermione drew out his title and he laughed. It was the first time she heard him laugh joyfully with her.

''Thank you, wife.'' He said and lied down next to her. They faced each other and Hermione didn't feel quite like sleeping.

She pressed her hand to his arm and asked him if he wanted to learn a cool 1990s song.

''As long as it ain't in fuckin' Latin I will learn wotever yer want me ter, wife.''

''Ok,'' Hermione started, ''it's really cool. It's my favourite song. I love it. You aren't allowed to make fun of it.''

''I make no promises.''

Hermione kicked him in the shin with her foot and he promised not to make fun of her 90s song.

''It starts like this. It's kinda a duet?''

''I want to participate. I am thrilled to do that. Extra marriage credit, let's go.'' He clapped.

Hermione snorted at that, uncontrollably laughing at Lord Voldemort making up marriage extra credit. ''Do you see everything through school?''

''Most things. If sex was a subject, I'd get a Troll.''

''Did you ever have sex?''

''I took amortentia once when I was having sex with Abraxas. It felt really good and then it wore off while I was in a compromising position and it was the worst thing I could have ever done to myself.'' came the jumbled response. Hermione patted him in consolation.

Then when silence stretched between them, too awkward to be good - Tom asked Hermione to continue her song lesson. ''I won't laugh _at_ you.''

Hermione took a deep breath and began to teach Tom Riddle ''Wannabe'' ''I say: I'll tell you what I want what I really really want.'' she hummed the song off key completely.

Tom Riddle nodded and said that it was already better than those horrid Latin songs he'd learned about sex.

''And then you say: So tell me what you want what you really really want.''

''Ooh. I see how I participate now.''

''And then I go again -''

By the end of the night they had learned the song, but then sleep overtook them and they woke up tomorrow entangled - painfully hungover and brilliantly married.

And when faced with the former, the latter seemed like a beautiful thing.


	7. Chapter 7

Matilda Yvona Riddle was named Matilda for Hermione's favourite book character that helped her survive the cruel, magically ignorant world. Matilda to Hermione was a symbol of perseverance and assurance that knowledge conquered all.

Matilda Yvona Riddle was named Yvona because Tom Riddle was never going to let go of his anagram phase, as that was not a phase, but in fact a lifestyle. When Matilda Yvona Riddle was rearranged one got Lady Diana Voldemort I. Hermione didn't catch on until the papers had already been sent to the Ministry and it was too late to rename the baby.

She grew up a happy baby that wanted for nothing. There were quite a few quarrels about who was going to stay at home and watch the baby in her formative years – what with Hermione singlehandedly destroying the patriarchal, ageist, speciest, racist Wizengamot alongside the powerhouse known as Amelia Bones, and Tom Riddle going abroad on seminars and colluding with dark arts masters.

In the end the task befell Tom Riddle because Matilda didn't speak a lick of English and much to the dismay of everyone around her only spoke in parseltongue. Tom Riddle didn't mind too much because his days consisted of writing research papers and being internationally renowned as a genius in the arts of parselmagic. He was close to figuring out a cure for the maledictus condition, even.

Lady and Lord Voldemort were perfectly content with one another, thank you very much.

When Hermione returned to their flat one evening she saw Matilda playing with a garden snake while her husband was writing a letter furiously and whispering curses under his breath. Hermione thought about saying something about the language, but she only need recall her own outburst a few days ago when she'd shouted: ''FUCKING PRICK!'' when Albus Dumbledore had urged some of his supporters not to vote for Hermione's legislation solely because he thought there was something nefarious going on with it as she was Tom Riddle's wife and mother of his child.

''Hey, Matty, what did you do today?'' Hermione asked her bouncy two year old girl.

Matilda had her hair, bushy and untameable – and her father's intense, sharp gaze. She held tightly on the garden snake and said in slow English: ''Met Walt!''

''Walt?'' Hermione looked at Tom and he just hissed in aggravation at the mention of the snake.

''Walt my pet!'' Matilda exclaimed and smothered the snake with love. Walt hissed and Matilda hissed back with glee. ''Daddy said fine!''

Hermione pictured Tom Riddle looking at their daughter holding the garden snake that was around the same length as was their daughter's height and just sighing: _''FINE.''_

''Did you name him that, sweetie?'' Hermione asked and leaned forward from her armchair to get a better look at the snake. Walt was such a common name. She didn't think Mr. Lord Voldemort would take kindly to his daughter's lack of dramatics.

Matilda nodded her head decisively and resolutely. ''Yes! Daddy's names are bad.'' She made a face. Hermione clapped joyously and laughed.

Tom Riddle wrote his letter in silence, but his lips quirked in a small smile.

Abraxas Malfoy often came by and still urged them to move back into the Manor.

''For fuck's sake cousin, we'll remodel it so you don't even recognize the bloody foyer.'' Was one of his go-to sentences. Hermione kindly refused until kind refusal was off the table and wands were brandished in a good natured duel.

Antoinette usually stood back with the children and laughed while Tom Riddle mediated. Lucius was five when Matilda was born so the Riddles had a practise baby.

Hermione remembered taking Lucius in her arms for the first time and whispering: ''Aunt Hermione's never going to let you become a racist, no-no. Never ever. Nuh-huh.'' She rocked the baby platinum blond with care and cooed at him progressive mantras like ''Equality matters. Purity of blood is garbage propaganda.''

Antoinette and Hermione went on vacations often. The media never quite caught wind of their liaison, calling them best gal pals and friendship goals and lovely ladies who wanted some time away from their husbands only to come back refreshed and ready to take up their roles as dutiful wives.

Antoinette often tended to bust a gut while reading their headlines. Richard Skeeter was a stupid, sleazy, shark of a journalist that merely promoted sensationalism. He had a daughter named Rita and Hermione better understood that woman. Still hated all of the Skeeters with a passion unknown to humanity.

Things changed when Matilda turned eight.

Hermione Riddle became Minister for Magic and remembered when that was announced that she first jumped into the air and shouted in victory, but then she looked around and saw her campaign manager, her endorsers, her voters, and then saw her family looking awestruck at her.

Nobby Leach almost won. He was muggleborn and Albus Dumbledore pushed for him to become Minister – it would be the progressive thing to do.

Hermione agreed, but she was muggleborn , too – not that people knew this. She had her own thoughts where Nobby Leach was a puppet. Not to mention that given her status as Malfoy's cousin the purebloods were going to vote for her. Especially with Walburga Black's endorsement.

It was two sentences that completely turned the tide in her favour: ''Madam Riddle has the best interest for purebloods and she will make a fine Minister for Magic. She is a pureblood, a mother, a wife, and a hard worker like all our ancestors were whilst building the Ministry.''

This was a reward for Hermione not lying to Walburga about future events. She had two healthy boys and threw them often at Tom Riddle to babysit because Matilda was Sirius' age. Matilda bit Sirius when they were five because she was mad at him and Walt had told her that snakes dealt with fights this way.

Tom Riddle had been forced to have a long conversation how snakes were not people and people were not snakes. He realised why people called him devil spawn growing up. Snakes gave horrible advice and only snakes had ever wanted to mother him.

Matilda pursed her lips in a pout and refused to apologise to the Black scion. Sirius said that it was fine, but he vowed to bite her back. He did – when he was sixteen and in animagus form.

Women voted for Hermione because, well, feminism. Hermione Riddle drove a hard bargain for equality. She didn't outright say that she was for equality of all blood status because that would have turned away quite a bit of purebloods – but she did play up her need to make the sexes equal.

Matilda came to her day speeches for support and the added cute factor that would have mothers all around voting for a family woman.

She spoke about the need for educated women. This miffed more people than it ought to have, but Hermione persevered. Antoinette stood by her side as her campaign manager, fierce and cold like a proper Malfoy.

Abraxas and Tom were sitting and applauding like proud family was supposed to. They, too, often went on 'business' trips. They went on a tour of the Balkan in search of magical artefacts. Tom Riddle was known as the wizard who found the Lost Diadem of Ravenclaw. He didn't make it a horcrux, but instead gave it to a magical museum. The locket he kept for Matilda to have as it was her right.

Whilst in Greece in the late 1960s Tom Riddle vanished for three months. This worried his family. Especially Matilda who wanted Lord Voldemort to read her bedtime stories and do the voices. No one could quite capture the essence of Gollum like the parselmouth could. It was a sibilant hiss – not just an exaggerated ssss. Matilda corrected her mother once when she'd tried reading to her.

Matilda and Hermione did active things together. They went to the beach with Antoinette and swam and did sporty things and made pancakes and read – but because of their language barrier, Matilda always favoured her father more. It hurt Hermione at first, but then she realised that she'd had a favourite parent growing up, too.

''I love you.'' Matilda hugged Hermione during story time. Hermione hugged her back and whispered the words back at her. Her child broke the hug and said with the same clinical tone Tom Riddle often used to describe and explain things: ''You're my mum, mum. I wouldn't let you butcher Fellowship of the Ring like this if I didn't love you.''

Hermione had felt so touched.

Three months later Tom Riddle apparated home and said that he'd been kidnapped by a man interested in his parselmagic research. ''He wants us to work together.''

''Who?'' Abraxas had shouted angrily. ''WHO!?''

Hermione saw Tom Riddle dazed and reverent of this man. He looked like Bellatrix Lestrange had looked at Lord Voldemort.

''I met the creator of horcruxes, Hermione.'' Tom Riddle whispered giddily like a child that had met its hero. Hermione mustered a smile, but the prospect terrified her.

''What's he like?'' Hermione asked, scared. He grabbed her hands in his and squeezed them reassuringly. She smiled.

''A genius, Hermione. He's a _genius_.''

Once a year, Tom Riddle would go to Greece and disappear for three months a time and come back with tomes and notes and magical innovations Hermione was astounded could even exist. One of these was the cure for maledicti.

They experimented on a woman trapped inside a snake form. Her name was Nagini. That had come as a bloody shock. Especially when a very soft spoken woman came to their flat with Tom Riddle for a visit.

''I have been trapped as a snake for over thirty years.'' Nagini whispered. She waved politely at Matilda and Matilda hid behind Tom who ushered her into talking to her.

''How does the maledictus curse progress?'' Hermione asked. She kept thinking about Neville decapitating this snake – this woman and felt odd and sick and horrible and so many different things at once. Antoinette was nearby for her to lean into and use for support. When the memories resurfaced, Hermione would curl up with Antoinette and sit in comforting silence, or talk when talking felt best.

''At first I can switch like an animagus when I choose, then switching back to human becomes progressively harder until I can't do it anymore.'' Nagini whispered and played with Matilda. She was older than she looked and smiled at Tom Riddle like a mother figure could.

Hermione remembered how Lord Voldemort had felt so strongly about this being to use for his horcrux and had always wondered what their relationship had been like.

Then she remembered that Nagini had eaten a person and had to excuse herself to throw up. Antoinette was by her side the entire time, holding her hair back and being a soothing presence. Once Hermione brushed her teeth so her smell didn't reek of vomit, she kissed Antoinette and thanked her for being there.

''You silly English – once the French love someone we never let them go.''

Nagini didn't come by often, but she invited Tom Riddle to her home in parselmouth communities. It was good, Tom Riddle admitted, to learn about your culture. He whispered one evening while Matilda was sleeping in her room and the Riddles were watching television on very low volume: ''I didn't even know I came from something. The Gaunts were mad snake people. Nagini and Herpo proved to me that there was so much more to my heritage than I thought.''

Hermione told him that she was happy for him. He kicked her under their shared blanket and she shouted: ''What was that for?!''

''Being sentimental. How _dare_ you.''

Hermione kicked back. ''Bugger off, husband.''

''Likewise, wife.''

They glared at each other for a good five seconds before dissolving into a fit of snickers.

Tom took Matilda one summer to go with him to Herpo in Greece and Hermione nearly had a heart attack when a photograph of Tom Riddle and her daughter riding on a basilisk came into post. The back of it read: Lord and Lady Voldemort send their regards.

Later, they all collectively went to visit Nagini and the Indian parselmouth communities. There was a photograph of them all: Malfoys and Riddles together. Antoinette held onto Hermione and flinched when a snake hissed at them. Hermione comforted her. Tom and Matilda laughed at them. Abraxas shouted something about how Malfoy men were peacocks and that peacocks ate snakes! It was a lovely time, all things considered. Matilda and Tom learned how to write in parselscript. Which just made their whole Lord and Lady Voldmort personas even bigger nerds because they wrote secret messages to one another.

Hermione noticed something about her cousin.

Abraxas Malfoy was someone that helped Tom Riddle learn how to have fun. Her cousin was an exasperating man, but he did everything in good faith to combat the bad faith his name promoted.

Once, Abraxas thought it was a good idea to go into muggle London. Dressed as muggles. Hermione thought that was a lovely idea. Antoinette did, too.

Tom Riddle would be their tour guide. He loathed them, all of them for making him do this, but the important part was that he did it. Because Abraxas begged him. A lot.

Hermione treasured this memory because of how progressively more cockney Tom's manner of speech got as the day went by. Antoinette often asked Hermione if she could translate because her English was not that good. Abraxas smiled like a goof and said that he'd always been charmed by the exoticness of Tom Riddle's accent.

 _''Exotic_?'' Tom Riddle had said, full Londoner. ''This is da most posh fn' yew 'ave ever said ter me, Abraxas!''

Hermione _wheezed_. Tom Riddle by that point played up the accent on purpose just to bring his merry band to the brink of confusion and asthmatic attack.

By the time Matilda was fit to go to Hogwarts, she had learned the most important sentence a public child can know: ''No comment.'' And a whispered fuck off in parseltongue so no one understood her.

There was an incident with Albus Dumbledore that Tom Riddle treasured and held close to his heart. Because his daughter did **that**!

The man had cornered Matilda once while she was with Hermione at the Ministry. Hermione turned to have a conversation with Cornelius Fudge about matters and Matilda wandered off because she tended to do that. Tom Riddle held ten locating charms on her whenever they left their home.

Albus Dumbledore approached Matilda and began to offer her candy.

''Sorry, I don't take candy from strangers.'' Matilda said.

Albus Dumbledore then tried to play up the fact that he wasn't a stranger, but a good family friend. He was interested to see what Tom Riddle's child was like. If she was like her father in any horrible, evil way. She was actually – but Matilda Yvona Riddle had had parents to help her hide this cruel manipulative side of her. Tom Riddle often had conversations with her in parseltongue about how some things really shouldn't be broadcast because people are stupid. Hermione told her in English that just because society was stupid didn't mean Matilda had to dumb herself down for it.

Matilda knew that she was to avoid eye contact with Albus Dumbledore. She knew who Albus Dumbledore was and she knew that he was not to be trusted.

Albus Dumbledore smiled kindly at her and Matilda thought that that was definitely a sham. There were loads of predators in the animal kingdom that got the prey to relax before pouncing and tearing into them with teeth or fangs or pincers. No thank you.

''STRANGER DANGER!'' Matilda Yvona Riddle shouted atop her lungs. People turned. ''THIS CREEPY OLD MAN IS TRYING TO GIVE ME CANDY AND TAKE ME FROM MY MUM! MY MUM'S THE MINISTER FOR MAGIC! STRANGER DANGER!''

Tom Riddle revelled in the fact that people began to conspire againt Albus Dumbledore for approaching a child like that. They weren't even aquaintaces – the Minister and he. Tom Riddle didn't even like him. Who was Albus Dumbledore to startle a darling young girl like that? No, this definitely couldn't stand. Push came to shove. Mothers rioted because mothers riot the best. Dumbledore's people began to switch to the new Minister's side because it was even more progressive than what Dumbledore promised.

He still remained at Hogwarts, but definitely under great scrutiny and without as much power as he once wielded.

Tom Riddle bought Matilda all of the ice cream she wanted. Dinner? Screw dinner. Ice cream. Breakfast? You can have an ice cream afterwards. Lunch? Maybe tone down the ice cream Matty.

Hermione absolutely enjoyed watching Matilda pick out books in bookstores. They went to muggle stores, too – because magical fiction was absolute garbage. Alice's Adventures in Wonderland was one of the first books she read. Surprisingly enough Tom Riddle picked it up.

''I always hated that cat.'' He whispered to Hermione. At her questioning gaze he explained: ''Bloody thing appeared at the most inconvenient times and gave absolutely terrible advice.''

''I'm sad Matilda isn't out yet.'' Hermione said. ''I can't wait for Matty to read it.''

Brothers Grimm went into the pile, as did Robinson Crusoe. Hermione lunged for a shelf and grabbed hold of Heidi with steel fingers. Tom Riddle laughed at her.

''This is my second favourite book of all time!''

''I thought it was Hogwarts: A History?''

''Mum, dad – is Doctor Dollitle a parselmouth?'' Matilda's question cut their banter. She held up a few books and Tom threw them in and said that that man was fiction and that you couldn't talk to animals. Matilda looked very sad at the prospet of not knowing what cats were thinking. Morgana liked Matilda and tended to lick her clean with her scratchy tongue. She and Walt made quite a pair when they went against some of Abraxas' peacocks.

''Do you think we're getting too many books?'' Tom asked.

Hermione looked more offended than when a wizengamot official had told her she should be minding the home, not gallivanting off and doing politicis.

''There can NEVER be enough books.''

''All right.'' Tom Riddle shrugged and took hold of a Marry Poppins book.

Hermione took a Hundred and One Dalmatians and Tom Riddle begged her not to take this one because Matilda would ring their ears off trying to soften them enough to get a puppy. She returned the book and took The Borrowers.

Matilda held tightly onto Charlie and the Chocolate Factory and asked if she could have this book. Hermione needed only to see the author to exclaim: ''YES!'' because the same author would come to write Matilda and she very much preferred to have her Matilda already enamoured by his work by the time the eighties rolled up.

Hermione was one of the most important Ministers for Magic Britain had seen. She was known for putting more creatures in work than any Minister thus far. Wolfsbane potion was free and blood bags could be given away to Vampires for free, too. This made the inter species attacks lessen considerably. Dementors were put around the outer perimeter of Azkaban, but they had no contact with prisoners. Azkaban was remodelled to make it more humane. Mandated trials were put into place so no Sirius Black's ever happened again.

One could spend a whole day listing all of the accomplishment of one Hermione Jean Riddle, but her favourite one was being there for Matilda when she was going off to Hogwarts.

The entire month of August, both Tom and Hermione had been insufferable.

''Slytherin for the win!'' Tom Riddle cheered his House cheer.

''Gryffindor hear me roar!'' Hermione shouted back and clapped along.

Matilda Yvona Riddle pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes and said very clearly: ''You two are making me hate both of these options.''

''Matty,'' Tom said and placed a hand on their daughter's shoulder, crouching down slightly to make eye contact. ''We're literally Salazar Slytherin's descendants – the Hat will put you in Slytherin. Lucius is there already so if anyone picks on you – you are to tell him. Don't tattle to a teacher – that's not how Slytherin works.''

''Daad.'' Matty rolled her eyes. ''I know all of this – I'm not a _nerd_.''

Hermione pushed Tom away and had a heart to heart with her daughter. ''Minerva McGonagall is the Gryffindor Head of House, Matty. She is literally the greatest educator of all time. If anyone picks on you – punch them straight in the nose. Don't even consider the repercussions. Nobody would dare expel the Minister's daughter.''

Tom Riddle's favourite thing about his wife was that she punched Abraxas Malfoy's grandson in the face. That was such a Hermione thing to do.

The Hogwarts Express chugged into the station and both Riddles fussed over their little girl and told her that any house she got herself in would be fine and that they would love her no matter what.

Matilda lunged into a hug with Hermione and whispered: ''Love you, mum.''

''Love you, sweetie.''

Satisfied, Matilda nodded her head in a very serious manner and hissed in parseltongue something at her father. She curtsied and he bowed. Lord and Lady Voldemort theatrics. Hermione shook her head.

Then Matila broke into a grin and hugged her dad tightly. He returned the gesture and kissed the top of her head gently. Hermione's and his eyes locked and she saw in them happiness. They weren't tight or mad like Lord Voldemort's or frigid and uncertain as Tom Riddle's had been back in 1945.

Later that evening Hermione and Tom and Walburga and Orion waited for their children to send them a letter.

Antoinette and Abraxas had told Lucius to send them a letter, too – because Lucius was a snitch and he would send intel about other people's children.

Sirius' letter to his parents came. Walburga Black was fainting. Orion Black was fanning a fan in her face and begging her to stay with him. ''Walbie, we had time to prepare for this. We had time damn it! The Minister told us our son would be a Gryffindor. Keep it together!''

Walburga had fainted. The world may live with hearing another day.

Matilda's letter was next.

Tom snatched it up and the two parents carefully opened it to read what House their daughter was in. Whether they would send all of the Gryffindor merchandise or the Slytherin kind remained a question.

_Dear mum and dad_

_I love you a lot, but these past few weeks you have been particularly annoying in a way I cannot forgive easily. Lucius can attest to this, but when the Hat was on my head I thought at it HUFFLEPUFF very hard. Please send me badger things. Yellow is a really neat colour. I'm tired of green and red. That's all you two seem to wear just to spite each other._

_Dad, I still love snakes, but badgers can win against snakes so they are obviously superior._

_Mum, those moving stairs are too impractical for me. Hufflepuff is next to the kitchen and this is exactly the kind of thinking that I value. Helga Hufflepuff knew what was right._

_Also, I didn't want to be a Ravenclaw because they're all dumb nerds anyway._

_Besides, Dumbledore's face was priceless. When I come back we can watch my sorting memory in a pensieve._

_Love,_

_Matilda Y. Riddle_

Then written in parselscript

_Lady Voldemort_

Antoinette and Abraxas read Lucius' letter and came back to laugh at the parents and their missorted children. They found strength and solidarity in making other couples feel like crap. Hermione and Tom thought that it was the most Malfoy thing ever. The more Hermione watched Antoinette and Abraxas parenting Lucius the more she understood why Lucius came out like _that_.

Tom Riddle held his daughter's letter and looked at Hermione. She looked at him equally as silenced and chastised.

''A fucking eleven year old put us in our place.''

Hermione shrugged. ''Yeah, apparently.''

''This is the most Slytherin thing to do.'' Tom Riddle said.

''You're kidding, right? Asking the Hat for another house than the one it wants you in is a Gryffindor power move because – hello – BRAVERY?''

The Riddles debated.

The Malfoys jeered.

The Blacks panicked.

All was well.


End file.
